


The Iridescent Chronicles: Earthly Adventures

by Aquamarine_Crystal



Series: The Iridescent Chronicles [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Multi, Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:14:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 76,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28029867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquamarine_Crystal/pseuds/Aquamarine_Crystal
Summary: When she was sixteen years old, Rose Tyler was on the verge of saying to hell with school and running off with Jimmy Stone, but was stopped by a mysterious woman in gold, who urged her instead to choose a different path. It would forever alter the life which she will live.
Relationships: Eighth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Eleventh Doctor/Rose Tyler, The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Rose Tyler
Series: The Iridescent Chronicles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053122
Comments: 72
Kudos: 230





	1. The Lady in Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first proper bit of Doctor Who fanfiction. To clarify, this will be a Doctor x Rose story, but the story is Rose’s so it will take some time for the Doctor to appear. I'll add characters as they appear because I do not wish to ruin the surprise. Happy Reading and let me know what you think!

Rose Tyler had had enough.

This was the last straw, and she was completely and utterly done.

Rain poured miserably over London, but Rose couldn’t even be bothered to seek shelter as she walked through the streets, soaked to the bone.

It was hardly the first time that she’d had a fight with her mother. But Rose had reached her limit.

Rose loved her mother, but their relationship had really gone downhill in the past two years. Since her mum had started bringing around Nick, actually.

Nick was almost fifty, balding, and his breath stank. His gaze also made Rose feel uncomfortable, but no matter what Rose said, her mother would not believe it.

Rose had taken to spending time away from the flat where Nick had become an almost permanent fixture, which had led to Jackie accusing her of getting airs and graces and cavorting with god-knows-who.

The last straw had been Rose’s terrible marks on her last exams. Rose never claimed to be a particularly good student, but she always managed to do well at school. These past exams, however, she had barely managed to scrape by.

Jackie had screamed herself hoarse, and Rose had returned the favour without backing down. Then Nick had become involved, and when Rose told him he wasn’t her father, Jackie had asked her to get out.

“Gladly!” Rose had shouted before walking out.

Which brought her back to now. Alone, tired and on the verge of tears, out in the cold rain without an umbrella or hope of shelter.

“You could always come with me.”

Rose stopped in her path, as she remembered those words. Those words had been why she’d done so poorly on her exams. Not the only reason; but a big part of it.

The thought of Jimmy brought a smile to her face, despite her depressing mood.

Jimmy Stone had been the only good thing in her life these past few months. He was everything Rose could ever want in a boy, and she regretted her decision to not take him up on his offer to this day.

Shareen had been the one to drag Rose out one evening to watch Jimmy and his band at a local pub. No Hot Ashes was nothing spectacular as a band, but their frontman was dazzling and the most handsome bloke Rose had ever laid eyes on. Jimmy’s voice reminded her of mulled wine and roaring fireplaces, and Rose had fallen in love at first glance.

By some bizarre cosmic miracle, Jimmy had also taken an interest in Rose and she couldn’t have been more thrilled.

Jimmy was nineteen, had a career and a life he could be proud of, could have any woman he wanted (and there were plenty of them who wanted him), but he’d singled out Rose who had been barely sixteen then.

That had been four months ago now, and anytime the band was in London, Rose would go and see him. Jimmy made her feel like the only girl in the world and when she was with him, she could forget about her life, and her exams, and her mum and Nick. The last time she had stayed over with him, Jimmy had asked her to come with him.

“We’re going on to Amsterdam,” he had told her. “You could come with me, babe.”

Rose had been tempted. The thought of the open road and an adventure where each day would be different than the one before was something she never dreamed she would be able to have. But responsibilities had held her back.

Despite how much Rose complained, she did well at school. Her teachers couldn’t care less about a chav off the Estate and if nothing else, their indifference made her want to try harder to make something of herself. If Rose had been in a more rational state of mind, she would have known she would hate to leave school.

Apart from school, Rose also had responsibilities to her family. Her nan had died only a month prior, and her mum was still recovering. Her dad had passed before Rose could even remember, so there was no one else Jackie had left. Leaving her alone to go off gallivanting with Jimmy would have been cruel.

Not that it mattered anymore. Her mum had Nick. Rose had proven all her teachers right by barely passing her exams.

Rose Tyler was neither wanted nor needed in any manner. There was no point in her being in London anymore.

Rose wiped her tears hastily, not that it made a difference since she was completely soaked, hair, clothes and all. She knew Jimmy’s bedsit was a short walk away. He was still away but she knew where the spare key was, so she could stay there. He would be back in a week and then she would ask him to take her away so she would never have to see her mother or her teachers ever again.

With a plan in mind, Rose turned around to walk towards Jimmy’s flat but stopped dead in her tracks. It took a moment of her blinking rainwater out of her eyes to realise she was not hallucinating.

The street was deserted, except for a solitary woman, standing out starkly against the grey of the streets on a rainy London evening.

The woman was dressed in a resplendent gold gown, the silk fabric clinging to her form like molten gold poured over a picture perfect figure. She had long blonde hair (natural too, judging by the state of her roots), laying in gorgeous waves all the way down to her waist. She was holding a clear umbrella, keeping her protected from the rain but it was a bit unnerving that the rain and wind didn’t disturb her perfect hair or her delicate gown too much. 

Rose suddenly felt a bit too scuffy in her soaked clothes and muddy trainers. She didn’t even want to think about her hair which was no doubt in tangled clumps, probably making her look like a drowned rat.

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?”

Rose stared at the woman like she’d grown a second head. It was a miserable evening, by anyone’s standards, let alone someone who looked like she had walked right out of a book about fairy godmothers.

The woman stepped towards Rose, the silk gown rippling around her as she walked, and Rose was frozen to the spot. It was as if she wasn’t quite there, her unearthly presence instilling a deep sense of fear within Rose’s very being.

“I don’t mean to frighten you,” said the woman, stopping a few feet in front of Rose. Her voice was delicate, with a posh accent.

“I’m not frightened,” said Rose, automatically.

The woman chuckled and took another step closer. Rose could see her face clearly now, and it was a surprisingly unremarkable face. She was pretty, with pale skin, sparkling blue eyes, and delicate features. It was not a face that would stand out in a crowd, but Rose knew the woman would never lack for attention.

“I’m Aurelia, you can call me Lia for short,” she said. “What’s your name?”

“R-Rose,” she answered.

“It’s a nice name,” said Lia, and held out her umbrella to her.

Rose stared at her, noting the rain hit Lia’s form but she remained perfectly dry.

“What are you?” asked Rose, not moving to take the umbrella.

Lia smiled and held out the umbrella to her insistently. “I mean you no harm, Rose Tyler,” she said.

Rose took a step back. “I never told you-”

“Never told me your last name,” finished Lia, with a nod. “Please take the umbrella. You’re soaked.”

Rose looked at Lia and figured she could outrun her if needed. If nothing else, Lia would at least trip over that gown. With a slow deliberate gesture, she took the umbrella and held it over herself. It made little difference since she was already soaked but it was nice not to get rained on.

“Who are you?” asked Rose.

“A friend, I suppose,” said Lia.

Rose clutched the umbrella tightly. “Are you one of Jimmy’s fans?” asked Rose, even though she knew she would remember someone like Lia.

“No,” chuckled Lia. “I do not hold any affection for, or have an interest in Jimmy Stone.”

“Then how do you know me?” asked Rose.

“I don’t know you,” said Lia, with a sardonic smile. “Not really, I should say.” When Rose just gave her a puzzled look, Lia’s smile became almost mischievous. “I am someone who likes the idea of meddling in things that are absolutely none of my business.”

“What does that even mean?” asked Rose.

“I know you’re thinking of running away with Jimmy Stone,” said Lia, her smile turning pitying. “Drop out of school, leave your mother behind. Am I wrong?”

Rose narrowed her eyes at Lia. “You don’t know what I’m thinking,” she said. “You don’t know who I am!” Rose knew she was yelling, but she did not care. “I don’t know how you know my name, but you don’t know anything about me!” Rose threw the umbrella at Lia’s feet and turned to walk away.

“Bad Wolf,” said Lia, and Rose stopped in her path. 

“What?” asked Rose, as she turned around. 

“I said, bad wolf,” said Lia.

“You’re actually insane,” said Rose, knowing she had to get away from the woman.

“My sanity is neither here nor there,” said Lia, picking up the umbrella and stepping toward her. “What I’m curious about is why me saying those words made you stop.”

Rose rolled her eyes at her. Lia was sounding more and more like an actual nutter. “Because they’re nonsense,” said Rose. “What’s next? The three little pigs?”

Lia chuckled and shook her head. “Maybe, but honestly, I have always found the bad wolf more fascinating,” she said, like there was a joke Rose was missing.

“I don’t care,” said Rose, turning to leave again. 

“How about a bet then?” called Lia, and Rose stopped once again. “Or a challenge, I suppose.”

“I said, I didn’t care,” said Rose, but had to admit Lia had her intrigued by her words.

“You’re a bad liar,” said Lia. “Trust me, takes one to know one.” She held out the umbrella to Rose again.

Rose rolled her eyes again but decided to play along and took the umbrella again. “What kind of a challenge?” asked Rose.

“Are you sure you want to know?” asked Lia.

“You’re the nutter who brought it up,” said Rose, exasperated.

“Yes, I was,” nodded Lia. “As you have no doubt realised, I am not exactly...what you may call ‘normal’.” Rose opened her mouth and Lia held up a hand. “Before you call me a nutter again, I mean the fact that we have been standing in pouring rain and I don’t have a single drop of water on me.”

“Are you a ghost?” asked Rose, feeling stupid even as she asked it.

Lia shook her head, but didn’t laugh like Rose half-expected. “No, but I am not supposed to be here. So I suppose I am a ghost of sorts, though I assure you, I am very much alive.”

“I don’t understand,” said Rose, feeling very tired all of a sudden. “Why did you come here? Who are you, really?”

Lia sighed and smiled a little at Rose. “I came here, because I have a sense for these things,” she said. “The moment a butterfly flaps its wings, you may call it.”

“A sense? What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Rose. “Are you psychic or something?”

“There’s no such thing as psychics,” said Lia, as if she had said it a hundred times before. “But I do have a sixth sense of sorts, that is far more reliable.”

“And that sixth sense told you to come find me?” asked Rose, sceptically. “Do you really expect me to believe you?”

“You don’t have to believe me,” said Lia, seriously. “But I want you to hear me out and let me tell you that you have a choice, before you make a decision.”

“A choice about what?” asked Rose.

“About your life,” said Lia, without missing a beat.

Rose laughed bitterly. “I don’t have a bloody choice. My marks are shit, my mum just threw me out, and I am going nowhere and I have no one but Jimmy.” She rounded on Lia furiously. “The only choice I have is to go crawling to Jimmy and ask him to take me away.”

“There is always a choice, Rose,” said Lia, her demeanour entirely serious without any hint of mischief she’d displayed before. It was difficult to say for certain but Rose thought her eyes were looking rather golden instead of blue. “And if there isn’t one, you fight like hell and carve out a choice.” She walked up to Rose, until they were standing almost toe-to-toe, and Rose couldn’t help but notice they were the same height. “I am not here to tell you to make a decision. I am simply here to offer a choice. It is always up to you to decide what you will choose. I cannot influence your will, only present you with the options.”

“And what are these options? Go crawling back to my mum? To that school where they think I’m nothing but a chav who’d sooner get knocked up than do her A-levels?” demanded Rose, angrily.

“That is one of the options, yes,” said Lia, unflinchingly. “The other is do what you were planning to do. Go to Jimmy Stone, run away with him. See where that takes you.”

Rose narrowed her eyes and looked at Lia. “Are you saying there is a third option?”

“There are infinite options,” said Lia. “Each one of them leads to a different possibility, a new potential future.”

“Oh, come off it,” said Rose, rolling her eyes.

“Fine, don’t believe me,” shrugged Lia. “But I do have a more solid plan as well.”

Rose blinked at her curiously. “Let’s hear it then,” she said, trying to seem indifferent.

Lia smiled. “I am not the only person that has a sixth sense. For that matter, a sixth sense is barely scratching the surface of the world that exists beyond the normal, mundane world you see every day,” she said. “There is more to this world, to this universe, Rose Tyler, than you can ever imagine.”

“Are you...misquoting Hamlet at me?” asked Rose.

“Yes, a little,” chuckled Lia. “But I mean it. There is much more you can learn, a lot you can unearth, even just here in London.”

“So what?” asked Rose. “You want me to join the X-Men?”

Lia laughed. “While that would be amusing, that is not what I meant,” she said. “There are other people, you know. People who investigate these things, to try and look into the worlds and universes beyond what most people want to see. I am not saying you’re one of them or if you should even become like them.” Her demeanour was serious again, and Rose was a little terrified at how much more imposing she became when she stopped smiling.

“Then what are you saying?” asked Rose.

“I’m saying you should see more of the world before you make a life-altering choice,” said Lia, and then reached into the sleeve of her gown and pulled out a card. “For you.”

Rose looked down at the offered card and slowly took it. It was a moss green card with embossed gold writing on it. “River Song,” she read. “Luna Detective Agency.”

“She is an expert of sorts and she investigates the unexplained, or rather the yet-to-be-explained,” explained Lia. “I have heard she is looking for a part-time employee at her agency and I think it is a worthwhile option for you to consider.”

“To investigate psychics?” asked Rose, but she was curious just the same.

“Sure,” said Lia. “But there is-”

“-no such thing as a psychic,” finished Rose. “Apparently,” she muttered, looking down at the card.

“Is that scepticism I hear?” asked Lia. 

Rose shot her a look, but didn’t argue the point. “What am I supposed to do? Walk in the door of some fancy agency and tell me a nutter in gold told me they’re hiring?”

“Why not?” said Lia. “If nothing else, you’ll make a lasting first impression.”

Rose shook her head and looked down at the card. “Seriously, what do I-?” Rose stopped mid-sentence as she looked up and realised that Lia had vanished. Rose looked all around her, down any alleyways she could see but there was no sign of Lia.

“Maybe I’ve lost it,” Rose muttered to herself, wondering if she had imagined the whole thing.

The only tangible evidence of the bizarre encounter were the umbrella and card left in Rose’s hands.

~

Luna Detective Agency was surprisingly not that far away from Rose’s school. It wasn’t exactly a nice part of town, but was gradually being gentrified if the old ladies gossiping on the Estate were to be believed.

It took Rose a whole month to work up the courage to go to the address on the card that Lia had given her.

After her strange meeting with Lia, Rose had returned home in a bit of a daze. To her absolute surprise, her mum had been frantic with worry, tears streaming down her face. Rose hadn’t been sure how to react, and had let her mother usher her inside the flat and then straight into a hot bath. When Rose emerged out of the bathroom, there was a hot cup of tea and a ham and cheese sarnie waiting for her. 

Jackie had hovered around Rose while she ate and then ushered her straight to bed. Rose had gone along, mostly because she had expected Jackie to throw her out again. The next morning, Jackie acted as if nothing had happened, and after a few moments of bewilderment, Rose had gone along with it.

There was an uneasy truce between her and her mum as far as Rose was concerned. Apart from her uncharacteristically fussy behaviour from that night, Jackie had gone back to normal. Neither one of them had acknowledged the fight, or discussed any of it. Rose did notice that Nick came around less and less, though as far as she knew, her mum was still going out with him.

Rose’s teachers were still a nightmare, but Rose had been so preoccupied since her encounter with Lia, that she wasn’t really paying attention to them. Shareen had tried to get her to come see Jimmy and his band since they were back in London, but Rose refused to go. She wasn’t quite sure why, but it felt like taking the easy way out.

Rose wanted to see all her options before her, and she knew ignoring the encounter with Lia and the third option she had presented would be cowardly.

So, almost a month after meeting Lia, Rose took the bus after school on a Friday to Luna Detective Agency.

It was an unremarkable shopfront, and Rose would have missed it if she hadn’t been looking for it specifically. The shop window was a bit dusty and Rose couldn’t really see anything besides a few cluttered bookshelves when she tried to peer in.

There was a single, solitary glass door and it opened easily when Rose pushed it open. A bell tinkled above her head, and Rose slowly stepped in.

The shop smelled of old books and Earl Grey. There were several bookshelves, some filled with books while others had little glass terrariums with plants, and bell jars with odd artefacts under them. A solitary desk sat in the middle of the shop, with papers and books strewn all over the top. In one corner were two squashy leather sofas facing one another, with a coffee table in the middle. The shop otherwise appeared to be empty. As Rose stepped through, the door automatically swung shut behind her.

“I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Rose jumped at the voice, and realised there was a door beyond the desk that she hadn’t noticed before. The voice had been posh, feminine, but with an air of authority that immediately made Rose stand up straighter.

The door swung open, and Rose watched as an older woman with a mass of curly dark blonde hair stepped out. She was wearing dark brown leggings and a knit white v-neck jumper, and carrying a stack of books. The woman stopped in her path when she saw Rose, eyes going wide.

“Hello,” said Rose, awkwardly.

The woman blinked a few times, and then slowly set the books down on the desk before looking at Rose again. “Hi,” she said.

Rose shifted uncomfortably, because the woman looked like she was about to cry. “Are you okay?” asked Rose.

The woman blinked and then abruptly her face cleared and she gave a wide, beaming smile. “Yes, sorry, my mind was universes away,” she chuckled. “How can I help you?”

“Right,” nodded Rose, still a bit uncertain. “Are you River Song?”

“I am,” she said. 

“My name is Rose,” said Rose, holding out her hand. “Rose Tyler.”

River looked at her hand and then up at her, before grasping it in a firm handshake. “Hello, Rose Tyler,” she said. “I’m River Song, proprietress of this fine establishment. What can I do for you, Rose Tyler?” she asked, as she released her hand and went over to the chair behind the desk.

“Uh-I,” Rose paused, wondering how to do this without sounding like an idiot. “I just want to know what it is you do here.”

River’s eyebrows raised slightly before she smiled. “It’s as it says on the door. I run a detective agency,” she said.

“Like a PI?” asked Rose.

“No, not quite,” said River, sitting down in her chair, and pointing at the chair across from her. “Take a seat and I’ll try and explain.”

Rose hesitated briefly, but took a seat. River rested her elbows on the desk and steepled her fingers, peering at Rose over the top of them.

“I’ll start from the beginning, shall I? I’m an archaeologist by profession, originally,” said River. “The more I studied, the more expeditions I went on, I began to realise that some things don’t add up.”

“Like what?” asked Rose, curious despite her reservations.

“Artefacts that cannot be explained by the place and time where they were found,” said River. “Mysterious phenomena that have seemingly no rational explanation.”

“Like the paranormal?” asked Rose, wrinkling her nose. “Ghosts and magic?”

“Oh, heavens no,” said River, at once. “I mean science, but science that we are yet to discover.” Rose must have been looking at her with doubt, because she chuckled. “You think I’m insane.”

“No,” said Rose, quickly. 

River laughed a little and sat back in her chair. “What brought you to me, Rose?” she asked. “People who walk through these doors have often seen, heard or found something that has no rational explanation,” she said. “Hold on, not rational. Let’s say, the not-yet-explained.”

Rose knew she had her there, not to mention she had almost repeated Lia’s words back to her. She reached into the pocket of her skirt and pulled out the card and set it down on the desk. “Lia gave me this,” she said.

River looked at the card and then up at Rose. “The name doesn’t ring a bell, I’m afraid,” she said.

Rose looked for any sign of deceit but River looked genuinely confused. “She said her name was Aurelia but she goes by Lia.”

River shook her head. “I’m sorry, Rose, but I have never heard of her,” she said. “Did she say why she was giving my card to you?”

Rose fidgeted awkwardly. “She said you were looking for a part-timer,” she said, glancing away.

There was a brief pause, and Rose chanced a quick look at River who slowly nodded. 

“Yes,” said River. “I have been interviewing a few candidates but I haven’t had any luck thus far. Did you want to apply?”

“What is the job exactly?” asked Rose.

River opened the top right hand drawer and pulled out a piece of paper which she handed to Rose. Rose took it and quickly read the contents.

LUNA DETECTIVE AGENCY  
Office Junior: Part-Time 

Looking for a part-time office junior to assist the proprietress. No experience needed. Flexible hours and attractive compensation.

Duties include greeting clients, answering phones and taking client enquiries, data entry and light office cleaning duties.

Call River Song on xxxxxxxxxx

Rose looked back at River. “What’s the pay?” asked Rose.

River laughed. “£4 an hour,” she said. “Judging by your uniform, you’re still in school so that’s more than what you’d get paid usually.”

She was right, and £4 an hour really was an attractive prospect. The job didn’t sound too difficult, but Rose still had her doubts. It must have shown on her face, because River looked amused.

“Tell you what,” said River. “How about you do a trial run? You can see what I do and decide if you want to stick around.” She indicated the shop with a wave of the hand. “You have open access to anything in here and you can learn about things which have perplexed even the best scholars of this time.” River leaned forward and met Rose’s gaze squarely. “You may even find out something about the woman who sent you here and why she might have sent you here.”

Rose searched River’s eyes for the catch, but River just looked at her expectantly. Rose took a brief moment to think, and then ever so slowly, she nodded.

River leaned back and smiled widely at her. “Wonderful,” she said. “Let’s see, tomorrow is a Saturday, so it’s the perfect day to get started. The shop opens at 9, so be here at least half an hour before. Do you have any questions?”

Rose knew she had a thousand questions, but she just shook her head. River stood up, and Rose followed her as she saw her out.

“See you tomorrow, Rose Tyler,” said River. “And I look forward to working with you.”

Rose smiled a little in response. While she was still unsure of her own decision, she couldn’t say she was completely unhappy with her choice. “Me too,” said Rose, and was surprised to realise she meant it. “I’ll see you tomorrow, River.”


	2. The Verdant Laboratory

Working at Luna Detective Agency was an experience in itself. Rose had initially thought she would be encountering the bizarre and the unexplained all the time, but the reality was quite different.

Most of the time River worked in the backroom, examining artefacts while Rose was at the front of the shop, cleaning, organising and greeting any clients who came in. Most people who came in left disappointed that River could not help them find their missing pet or find dirt on a cheating spouse.

A few odd ones did come in, almost always with an unbelievable story or an unexplained artefact. Rose was surprised and impressed at River’s ability to judge if they were lying or telling the truth within a few minutes of conversation. As for artefacts, she sometimes dismissed them outright as fakes but with some of the others she would take her time to examine them and conduct a few tests.

However, despite almost three weeks since Rose began working at the Luna Detective Agency, nothing out of the ordinary happened. Rose would have been disappointed, except something had changed one week in.

Rose had been tidying one of the bookshelves and she could hear River working in the backroom. Rose hadn’t really mustered up the courage to ask exactly what it was that River meant by authenticating artefacts, but she found herself glancing at the backroom frequently while she worked. The door was open so after nearly an hour of Rose casting surreptitious glances at her work, River had sighed and invited her to come in and observe.

Rose hadn’t ever really given much thought to archaeology despite loving history immensely. But watching River explain relative dating methods was fascinating to Rose, because River made it seem so interesting and engaging. 

River must have been able to tell that Rose was interested, because from then on, she started asking Rose to assist her whenever possible. 

Over the past two weeks, Rose had become a little more familiar with archaeology, and whenever they didn’t have any clients, she would watch River work, and listen to her explain her methods as well as the history behind the artefact.

Initially, Rose had only been planning on working on Saturdays and maybe one or two days during the week. However, for the past two weeks, Rose had been coming in every day after school and staying until they closed in the evening. Rose also worked all day on Saturday. It kept her a lot busier than expected but Rose couldn’t say she disliked it.

River let her do her homework if there was nothing else going on, and even occasionally helped Rose with her studies. So while nothing out of the ordinary had happened, Rose wasn’t exactly regretting her decision to work at Luna Detective Agency.

She was well aware that this was just a trial run, but Rose had found no reason thus far not to take the job if River offered it to her. Her mum wasn’t best pleased, particularly because she thought the job would give her airs and graces but she couldn’t exactly complain either since Rose was working hard and making decent money. Rose’s marks were also back on track and while she no longer had a lot of time to see her friends, Rose was happier than she thought she would be.

One Saturday when Rose walked into the shop, River was dressed differently. River usually preferred comfortable leggings or fitted trousers, paired with knit jumpers or loose shirts, but that day she was wearing a sleeveless forest green handkerchief dress, with a thick brown belt around her waist and knee-length brown boots.

“We have a client coming in this morning,” River said to Rose, when Rose looked at her in surprise. “She’ll be here soon, so do you mind popping the kettle on? And maybe some biscuits too, she’s partial to wagon wheels.”

Rose gave her a curious look. “Someone you know?” she asked.

“Yes,” said River. “Azalea Meadowes, she’s a professor of Ecology at Oxford, but she has been on sabbatical this year. She called me last night and said she needed my expertise.”

“Archaeology or the other kind?” asked Rose, as she put her coat and scarf away in the backroom and put the kettle on for tea.

“She didn’t say, but judging by her tone on the phone last night, I don’t think it’s about archaeology,” said River.

Rose nodded, and couldn’t help but be slightly excited by the prospect of an unexplained mystery. An Oxford professor was unlikely to be someone who would tell tall tales or bring in an outrageously fake artefact.

Azalea Meadowes arrived just as Rose finished setting up the tea tray. The woman who walked in was in her mid-fifties with salt and pepper black hair, dark skin, and wearing a neat tweed skirt suit and gold horn-rimmed glasses. She was exactly what one would expect an Oxford professor to look like.

What was out of place, however, was the slightly distressed expression on her face. River greeted her with a wide smile and a quick hug. Azalea hugged River back and smiled a little as pulled away.

“Hello, River,” she said. “It is so nice to see you again.”

River smiled back. “It is nice to see you too, Azalea. Please come in.”

Azalea followed River as she led her into the shop and toward the sofa in the corner of the room where River usually saw clients. Rose walked in from the backroom a minute later, with the tea tray held in her hands. 

When Azalea saw her, River smiled and said, “This is Rose. She works here part-time and assists me in my work.”

Azalea held out her hand to Rose. “Hello, I’m Azalea Meadowes. Very nice to meet you, Rose,” she said.

Rose waited to put the tea tray down on the coffee table before shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you too,” said Rose. 

As Rose poured tea for everyone, River and Azalea made some small talk, mostly about Azalea’s journey to London, only to have Azalea say she had been in London for a few months now and her sabbatical had turned into a personal research project. She didn’t want to seem to expand on what this project happened to be, and it seemed as if that was her reason for coming to see River.

Once Azalea had her cup of tea, she took a sip before looking at River. “I know what you do can be...interesting,” she said.

The way she said it made Rose think that Azalea Meadowes was not someone who believed in anything beyond the rational world. If the way River smiled in response was any indication, Rose’s intuition was not off the mark.

“So what brings you to me today?” asked River. “As I understand, you have never given much consideration to my work.”

Azalea sighed and set her cup of tea down. “I came to you because there is no one else I can turn to, and to be honest, I don’t know what I’m dealing with.” 

River gave her a scrutinising look and nodded slowly. “Alright, what is it?” Azalea glanced at Rose before looking at River again. “Anything you say to me, you can say in front of Rose,” said River, firmly.

Rose sat up slightly taller when she said that.

Azalea nodded. “As I said before, I have been working on a personal project here in London. An old friend of mine had asked me to assist on some botanical research,” she said. “It hasn’t been, well I should say, it hadn’t been going well. Until about two weeks ago.”

“What happened two weeks ago?” asked Rose.

“Two weeks ago, I came back to the lab and the plant that we were researching...it,” she paused, before continuing. “...I swear I could hear it breathing,” said Azalea.

River’s eyebrows wrinkled. “What do you mean you could hear it breathing?”

“I mean what I said,” said Azalea, earnestly. “It was breathing. Snoring, actually, if you want me to be honest.” She looked between Rose and River. “I know it sounds insane.”

“What kind of a plant was it?” asked Rose.

“It’s just an ordinary rosebush,” said Azalea, with a slight shrug.

River raised her eyebrows. “Well that doesn’t sound normal, does it?”

“No, it does not,” agreed Azalea. “An ordinary rosebush should not have been snoring.”

“You’re right about that,” said River. “Although, I find it hard to believe that it was just an ordinary rosebush if it is what you were researching.”

Azalea rolled her eyes but gave a nod. “Well yes, it is not quite ordinary. It might be easier to show you than explain,” said Azalea.

Rose glanced at River, who was appraising Azalea thoughtfully. “Certainly,” said River, finally. “Call a cab, will you?”

At first Rose thought River had directed it to her, but Azalea nodded and stood up. She stepped a few steps away and made a call on her cellphone.

“Are you going with her?” Rose asked River in a whisper, even though she knew the answer.

“We are going with her,” corrected River. “Get your coat, and grab a notebook and pen as well.”

Rose gaped at her for a moment, but hurried to obey before River could change her mind.

The cab ride was quite long, the London traffic making it worse. Forty-five minutes after leaving the Luna Detective Agency, the cab pulled up in a very posh neighbourhood in Knightsbridge. Rose tried not to balk when the fare came to about £35, which Azalea paid without blinking.

The houses in the neighbourhood were arranged on a curve around the garden square with stucco-fronted elevations, wide windows and projecting porches with Doris columns. The house they were standing in front of was two windows wide and had a cast iron balcony on the first floor which Rose knew would provide a magnificent view of the garden square.

Rose was beginning to regret that it was a Saturday and she was not wearing her school uniform, because even if the uniform belonged to a public school in Peckham, it would have been an improvement over the ripped wide-legged blue jeans and faded pink t-shirt that Rose was wearing. Thankfully, her coat covered most of it, but Rose still felt extremely out of place.

“This way,” said Azalea, leading them to the front door. 

“I thought we were going to a lab,” Rose murmured to River.

River just shrugged with a curious smile, and Rose followed after her, as Azalea rang the doorbell.

A moment later, the door was opened by an older man dressed in beige slacks and a bright blue knit jumper. He appeared to be in his mid-sixties, shaved bald head, dark skin and surprisingly alert brown eyes.

“Azalea! Welcome back,” he greeted in a warm voice.

“Hello, Daniel,” smiled Azalea. “I have brought reinforcements.”

The man, Daniel, smiled as he looked toward them. “Come in, come in,” he beckoned, opening the door wide.

Rose tried not to gape too much as they stepped into the beautiful house. The interior had freshly painted white walls and spotless white furniture with splashes of red and orange because of the various artwork on the walls. 

“Daniel, meet Professor River Song and Miss Rose Tyler,” said Azalea. 

“Daniel Colburn, very nice to meet you,” he said, shaking River’s hand and then Rose’s. 

“Nice to meet you too,” said River. 

“Yeah,” agreed Rose, liking his bright smile and warm demeanour immediately. “You have a beautiful house.”

“Oh, thank you very much,” he beamed. “Let’s talk in the laboratory, shall we?”

“You have a lab here?” asked River, and Rose was glad that she had asked because Rose had been about to as well.

“Yes, in a manner of speaking,” he said, leading them further through the house and right out into a conservatory. Rose’s eyes went wide as she saw the glass walls of the conservatory, and plants, shrubs and greenery growing inside. It looked like a place out of a fairy tale, and certainly not the clinical lab that Rose had been expecting.

“Daniel is something of a collector,” said Azalea.

“I have spent over forty years of my life finding and tending to rare and unusual plant specimens,” explained Daniel. “Did Azalea tell you about my most recent acquisition?”

“I thought it would be easier to show them,” said Azalea.

Daniel nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I see,” he said. “This way.”

He led them deeper into the conservatory, and stopped before a potted plant. 

“It’s massive!” exclaimed Rose, as she stared at the towering rosebush which was easily over seven feet tall.

“Yes, but that isn’t what’s unique about it,” said Daniel, as he carefully parted the leaves to reveal an unusual flower. The petals of the rose were pitch black, lined with a dusting of silver that seemed to glow just a little.

“It grew this way?” asked River, leaning toward it but keeping a distance regardless.

“It did,” nodded Azalea. “Daniel heard about this rosebush growing black and silver roses, so we brought a sample back here.”

“We only picked a branch,” added Daniel. “And it grew to this size in less than three weeks.”

“That’s impossible,” said Rose.

“That is what we thought as well,” said Azalea.

“And you’re sure it’s an ordinary rose bush?” asked River.

“Biologically speaking, yes,” nodded Daniel. “DNA sequencing says it’s Rosa x damascena. A Damask rose.”

“What is that?” asked Rose.

“It’s a rose hybrid,” explained River. “Their scent forms the basis for many perfumes and oils.”

Rose leaned forward but stopped herself from smelling the flower, remembering how little they knew about this plant. “And you said you heard it breathing?” asked Rose, looking at Azalea.

“More like it was snoring,” said Azalea, with a look at Daniel. “It happens in the evenings. And during the day…” she paused, as if it made her uncomfortable to voice out loud.

“Yes?” prompted River.

“It hums,” finished Azalea.

“Hums?” asked Rose, and as she said it, they all heard a low sound as if an old woman were humming a melody under her breath. The melody was unrecognisable, to Rose at least. She jumped back and glanced at River, who looked unphased.

“Have you conducted any tests?” asked River.

Azalea nodded. “We ran the usual stimulus-response tests, but…” she paused again and looked at Daniel.

“It does not respond like we would expect,” said Daniel. “Rather, it seems as if it goes out of its way to react in a contrary way.”

As if to punctuate Daniel’s words, the humming stopped and three flowers spontaneously sprung into bloom. Rose was certain there hadn’t even been any buds on the plant before, but there were now three fully bloomed roses in the same black and silver colour, emanating a faint scent of earth and oranges.

“It’s mimicking your perfume,” said River, glancing at Azalea, who looked a bit freaked out.

Rose didn’t blame her; the whole thing was making her hair stand on end. 

“Why me?” asked Azalea, backing away slightly. “Daniel has been the one who has been tending to it.”

“I’m not sure,” said River. “Could I see your notes?”

“I’ll go and fetch them,” said Azalea, and hurried away, looking glad to be leaving. 

Daniel pursed his lips, as he turned to River. “Azalea didn’t mention what it was that you did, but you do not seem bothered by this whole situation, Professor Song,” he said.

River winked at him. “Trust me, Daniel, I have seen and experienced things you wouldn't believe,” she said. “But, so far it seems to me that whatever this plant is, it does not mean you or Azalea any harm.”

Daniel nodded. “I’ll get my notes as well,” he said, and walked away.

Rose turned to River, who was examining the plant again. “Have you seen anything like this before?” she asked.

“No,” answered River, and carefully reached out her hand toward the plant.

“Hang on,” said Rose, catching her wrist. “What if it hurts you?”

River glanced at her before looking back at the plant. “Do you mean us harm?” she asked, as if talking to a person.

Rose didn’t expect a response, but the plant started humming that same melody again, but the voice was a bit louder this time. She didn’t know how, but somehow it felt like the plant was answering and saying it didn’t mean them harm. She looked at River, and slowly dropped River’s wrist. 

River nodded at her and reached out her hand to slowly touch one of the flowers. The plant did not react and as River pulled her hand away, Rose saw that there was silver dust on her fingers where she’d touched the flower. River brought it to her nose to smell and raised her eyebrows.

“That is incredible,” said River, looking at the plant in wonder.

“What?” asked Rose, and River held out her hand for Rose to smell the silver dust as well.

Rose expected the scent of Azalea’s perfume again, but to her shock, she recognised her own perfume. She chuckled in disbelief. “Can’t believe a flower is smelling like Britney Spears’ Fantasy.”

River chuckled as well. “You are quite intelligent,” she told the plant. “Would you mind if I plucked one of the flowers?”

The humming remained consistent, and River nodded and slowly plucked one of the roses. Rose couldn’t help but lean closer as River held up the flower and observed it carefully. It was shaped like an ordinary rose and despite the unusual colour, there was nothing in the texture of the petals that indicated it was anything but a rose. Rose reached out a finger to touch the petals tentatively and got the same silver dust on her fingers, which now smelled like River’s perfume.

“Do you have a name?” asked Rose, as she turned to the plant. There was no response and Rose felt slightly foolish, but to their surprise, one of the flowers from the plant fell off and the petals scattered on the floor.

Rose blinked at the plant but River immediately knelt on the ground and Rose followed suit a moment later. To her absolute shock, there appeared to be scratches in the scattered petals, almost like it was writing though Rose did not recognise the language.

“Calpurnius,” said River, looking at the plant in wonder.

“You can read that?” asked Rose, startled.

River jumped as if guilty, but Azalea and Daniel returned to the conservatory right at that moment. River immediately went over to them and started asking questions about their notes. Rose stared at her and then down at the petals again. She definitely could not read the writing; couldn’t even identify the script. She didn’t understand why River could read it and why she had looked so startled and guilty when Rose had caught her out.

Rose pulled out the notebook and pen she had brought with her and did her best to copy the symbols onto a page. Rose was quite good at art but even she was having trouble copying them because of the unusual lines and strokes of the script. 

“As far as I can see, it is an intelligent and sentient plant,” Rose heard River tell Azalea and Daniel. “It doesn’t seem to mean you harm in any manner.”

“What is it that you’re saying?” asked Azalea, and Rose stood up and looked at them.

River sighed. “I’m saying, I’m not sure what you want me to do here,” she said. “You have clearly discovered something that hasn’t been seen before. But it’s not dangerous, and the two of you are better equipped to learn more about it than I will ever be.”

Daniel placed a hand on Azalea’s shoulder. “She’s not wrong, Azalea,” he said.

Azalea looked torn but nodded slowly. “Alright, I understand,” she said. “Daniel and I will continue studying it. Thank you, River.”

River smiled. “Of course,” she said. “Keep us apprised of your progress, will you?”

“Yes, of course,” said Azalea.

“Come on, Rose,” said River, turning to her. “Time for us to go.”

Rose had a million questions on her mind, but she nodded and decided to hold off until she was on her own with River. Daniel invited them to stay for tea but River insisted they had to return to the agency. Azalea called them a cab, and she and Daniel saw them off.

“Thank you for coming,” said Azalea. “Send me an invoice for your fees, River.”

“Certainly,” nodded River.

“Bye,” said Rose, shaking hands with Azalea and Daniel.

“Thank you both for being here,” said Daniel.

As the cab pulled away from Knightsbridge, Rose turned to River but before she could speak, River shook her head.

“Wait until we get back to the shop,” she said.

Rose closed her mouth indignantly but nodded. It was an uncomfortably silent cab ride and as soon as they got back, Rose turned to River.

“What the hell was that?” she demanded. 

River sighed. “I assume you mean how I could read the writing on the petals,” she said.

“Yeah, to begin with,” said Rose.

River sighed again and walked to her desk. Rose thought she was stalling but she reached for the lower left drawer, the one that Rose knew she always kept locked, and unlocked it with a small key. Reaching inside, she pulled out a forest green leather bound journal with a gold leaf embossed in the centre.

“I told you, I’m an archaeologist,” said River, looking at the journal instead of Rose. “I have gathered a lot of knowledge and learned a lot of unusual things.” She held up the journal. “This contains stories of my travel; all the places I have been and all the things I have seen and done.” She smiled at the confused look on Rose’s face and placed the journal back in the drawer before locking it up again. “I might show you some of those things someday, but not yet. You’re not ready.”

Rose bristled at her tone. “I’m not a kid!” she said.

River raised her eyebrows. “Yes, you are,” she said, firmly. “In terms of everything that matters, you are still a child.” Before Rose could get even more furious than she was, River sighed deeply. “Everything about us is a series of choices, Rose. You chose to walk into this shop and you want to delve deeper into this world which you have never experienced before. But you are still hesitant. To me, that says that you can still walk away from it.”

Rose’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “You want me to leave?” she asked.

River looked torn but shook her head. “I want you to make a choice of your own free will, not because of anyone’s influence. Including mine,” she said.

“I did make this choice of my own will,” argued Rose. “I chose to come here. I chose to work here. I chose to come with you and learn from you.”

River blinked at her and smiled a little. “Yes, I supposed you did,” she said, and then took a deep breath. “Tell me, Rose,” she began. “Have you heard of the Doctor?”

“Doctor what?” asked Rose.

River shrugged. “They’re part of the reason why I became an archaeologist,” she said. “They’re a myth, a legend, of sorts. Most of those legends say they are a traveller, a wanderer who has seen all of the universe.”

“Like an alien?” asked Rose, in disbelief. “You’re having me on.”

River did not look like she was joking. “Is it really so hard to believe that in a universe as vast as ours there are worlds besides the one we live in?” she asked.

Rose stared at her but then nodded slowly. It made sense; just in a purely mathematical sense if nothing else. But she was still having a hard time believing River’s words. “That plant from today? Calpurnius,” she said. “Was that alien?”

River nodded. “I believe so,” she said. “I don’t know how it came to Earth, but it seems to be adapting.”

“You’re crazy,” said Rose, her voice a bit faint.

River smiled sardonically. “Can you explain how a plant was communicating with us, growing flowers spontaneously and mimicking the scent of people around it?” she asked.

Rose went silent and glanced away. “It’s just…” she said, finally. “It sounds so...unbelievable.”

“Yes, but it isn’t a question of belief, Rose,” said River, seriously. “You saw what you saw today with your own eyes. You heard the plant, touched it, smelled it. It isn’t blind faith, Rose, you experienced it yourself.”

Rose was quiet, and was glad that River let her mull over those words without interrupting. “Are there more?” asked Rose, finally, looking at River.

“What?” asked River.

“More things, like-like Calpurnius?” asked Rose.

“Yes,” said River. 

Rose had known the answer, but having River confirm it made it more real. Then she suddenly remembered something River had said to Azalea and Daniel. “You told them it wasn’t dangerous,” she said. “What if it had been?”

River blinked but then sighed. “If the plant had meant them harm, I would have asked it to stop,” she said.

“And if it had refused?” asked Rose.

“Then I would have found a way to stop it,” said River, with a hint of steel in her voice.

“Would you have killed it?” asked Rose.

“Not if there was another way,” said River, and Rose believed her.

Rose nodded slowly. “So, this Doctor, have you met them?” she asked.

River looked at her but then shook her head. “No, I have just heard the stories,” she said.

“So they might not even be real,” said Rose, confused.

“Maybe,” shrugged River. “But the stories have me fascinated, so I will keep looking for them. My own white whale, so to speak.”

Rose nodded, but then remembered something else. “It still doesn’t explain how you could read the writing, if it was alien,” she said.

River smiled at her, eyes glittering with amusement. “I told you, I have seen a lot of things in my time, Rose. Including aliens,” she said.

Rose’s eyes went wide. “You mean-?”

“I mean, I have a few tricks up my sleeve, including the ability to read alien languages and knowing when artefacts are real or fake,” she said.

“Are you an alien?” asked Rose, feeling stupid.

River didn’t laugh like she half-expected, and shook her head instead. “I am human,” she said. “My parents are human, too. Born in England, both of them.”

Rose was a bit relieved when she heard that. It was one thing to come to terms with the fact that there were aliens, and a whole another that her boss was one of them.

River smiled a little. “Why don’t you go home, Rose?” she suggested. “It’s been a long day.”

It was just after midday but Rose knew River was right. The day had been exhausting and this conversation had given Rose a lot to think about as well.

With a nod at River, Rose gathered her things and went home. On her way home, she passed the stationery shop and paused. Making up her mind, she went inside and browsed the section which housed the journals. Finally, she found a black leather bound journal with light pink pages and purchased it.

When she got home, Rose opened the first page and wrote the date in the corner before starting to write about Calpurnius. In one corner, she carefully sketched out one of the flowers, trying to make it look as realistic as possible, with only a biro to assist her.

As she finished writing about Calpurnius, she thought back to her conversation with River and slowly wrote down one word: ‘Doctor’. She paused, and then slowly drew a question mark next to it.

Unbeknownst to her, in her shop, River was writing down the day in her own journal. 

“This isn’t easy, you know. I don’t like lying to you,” she murmured seemingly to herself, as she came to the end of the entry. “I hope I did the right thing today.”

There was no answer, and there was no one apart from her in the shop either. Not that she was expecting there to be either.

“Rose Tyler,” she murmured. “Bad Wolf.”


	3. The Violet's Dilemma

The next four months passed slowly and yet too quickly for Rose to keep track. The Luna Detective Agency stayed busy and there were plenty of customers that came in. 

There was no shortage of artefacts that came to River for authentication either, and Rose knew some of them were definitely not from Earth. One of those was a small metal ball which could display an entire holographic galaxy, but a galaxy that Rose had never seen before. There was another artefact that if placed on a closed book it could copy all of the text inside and display it onto a computer. There were a couple other odds and ends, and while Rose was fascinated as River carefully authenticated those artefacts, it also proved time and time again, that they were not alone in the universe.

Rose still wasn’t certain how River knew so many things that she did, but Rose was determined to learn as much as she could from her.

One of the frequent visitors they had was Azalea Meadowes. She came in from time to time to give them updates about Calpurnius and how her and Daniel were going with their research.

So far, they had come up with ways of communicating with Calpurnius using different hums and sounds, and were now developing a language with which to communicate. It was fascinating for Rose to hear about it, and everytime Azalea came to visit, Rose would eagerly ask her questions about Calpurnius.

River did not usually seem as interested but Rose kept track of Azalea and Daniel’s research because their work interested her, although it was mostly because of the possibility of Calpurnius being an alien plant. It was on one such visit that Azalea asked Rose an unusual question.

“What are your plans after school?” asked Azalea.

Rose blinked at her in slight confusion. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean, what are your plans? For university?” asked Azalea.

Rose’s eyebrows shot up. “University?” she asked.

“Yes, of course,” said Azalea. 

“I can’t afford to go to uni, let alone be smart enough to get into one,” said Rose, with a slight chuckle.

Azalea did not laugh. “I disagree,” she said. “I am a lifelong academic and I can tell that you have the right temperament for becoming one as well.”

Rose considered whether Azalea was making fun of her but she knew Azalea was not that kind of a person. “What do you mean?” asked Rose.

“I mean, you have curiosity, and you’re smart and observant. And this fascinates you,” said Azalea.

“You mean Calpurnius?” asked Rose.

“Yes, but not just Calpurnius,” said Azalea. “What fascinates you is learning about the unknown, about the history, the origin. Things that are yet to be discovered, as River might call them.”

Rose knew she was right. “But still, I don’t know if university is something for me,” said Rose.

“Well,” said Azalea. “Let me tell you something about Oxford then. They’re always looking for fascinating young minds and I think that you might be one of them, Rose,” she added seriously.

Rose didn’t quite believe Azalea, and it was likely she was only being nice. Azalea seemed to know what she was thinking, because she smiled and said, “Think about it. You are doing your A-levels, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” answered Rose. “In archaeology, anthropology and history.”

“You like archaeology, then?” asked Azalea.

“Well, yes, I like history and ever since I started working here, archaeology has me interested. River has been a big part of it,” said Rose, honestly.

Azalea smiled. “That’s good,” she said. “It’s always important to have a good mentor and River is an extremely good one. I would say you should give some serious consideration to studying archaeology. Perhaps at Oxford, even. I could find some brochures for you or even speak to one of my colleagues to give you some guidance.”

“N-no, thank you,” said Rose. “But I will think about it.”

“Okay,” said Azalea. “But let me know if you ever need more information or need me to help you in any way.”

“Thank you,” said Rose, gratefully. 

Rose gave a lot of thought to Azalea’s words in the weeks that followed. It wasn’t that she had never considered university but it had always been an impossible distant dream. The dream was no closer than it had been before, or so Rose thought, until she began thinking about it in more detail.

River’s guidance had helped her studies quite a bit. Her marks were better than they had been, and if what Azalea had said was true, she could possibly study archaeology going forward. Though she had her doubts about being smart enough to get into Oxford, of all places.

Rose was also acutely aware there was the issue of finance. She was doing well to save the money she was making at her job, but it was not enough to pay for university, let alone paying for room and board if she had to live on campus. University was expensive and Rose knew she could not afford it.

At the same time, Rose wasn’t even sure what she wanted to do after school if she didn’t go to university. She would have to get a job, because she doubted she could keep working for River forever as much as that might be fun. She needed to have a career of her own, a life of her own, and it would be nice if she got to choose what she wanted to do instead of riding River’s coattails for the rest of her life.

Rose liked her job now, liked what she was learning and the things she was discovering. To do this more, to learn more about it, to become an expert in that field, was an attractive prospect, and she knew it deep down though she did not like to admit it out loud, even to herself.

The thought stayed on her mind for a while, and what was supposed to be a fun evening out with her friends for her seventeenth birthday had Rose bailing out on her own party after only an hour.

She walked out of the club that Shareen had snuck them into and shivered lightly at the cold night air. The flimsy mini skirt and top she was wearing was nowhere close to appropriate for anywhere but a club, and certainly not in March. Rose thought moving around would help and she crossed her arms to keep warm as she started walking away from the club. She didn’t really have a direction in mind, but by some chance she ended up walking toward the Luna Detective Agency.

It was after closing time so she wasn’t expecting River to still be there, but when she got to the shop, the lights were still on though the sign on the door had been flipped to ‘Closed’. Rose glanced through the window and saw River at the desk, reading something intently.

With a small smile, Rose tapped lightly on the window. River looked up and her surprise turned into a smile when she saw Rose. 

“I thought I gave you the evening off for your birthday,” said River, as she unlocked the door and let her in.

“Yeah,” Rose agreed, glad for the warmth of the shop as she walked in.

River wordlessly went into the backroom and came back with a thick cardigan that she handed to Rose. Rose took it gratefully and slipped it on.

“Tea?” asked River.

“Thanks,” nodded Rose.

River nodded back and put the kettle on. Rose pulled the cardigan tighter around herself and sat down. River returned with tea and crisps for both of them. 

“Are you going to tell me why you abandoned your own party?” asked River, as she sat down in front of her.

“I didn’t abandon it,” said Rose, avoiding her gaze. “It was just…”

“Rose,” said River, and Rose stopped and sighed.

“I felt like an idiot, alright?” snapped Rose. She considered storming off, but she was only just starting to get warm and she knew River didn’t deserve to be spoken to in that manner. “Sorry,” she muttered, reaching for the teacup.

“What happened?” asked River.

Rose looked at her but looked away just as quickly. “Shareen and I had a fight,” she said. “Well, not really a fight,” she clarified. “She...said something.”

“Said something you didn’t like?” guessed River, and Rose wasn’t surprised.

“I don’t want to talk about it, River,” she said.

“Alright,” said River, and they sipped their tea in silence for a little while.

“She said I was...getting too big for my boots,” said Rose, finally. “In much more colourful terms. I think...I think she might be right.”

“What makes you say that?” asked River.

Rose took a deep breath. “Azalea said something to me the other day, and I wanted to ask you about it,” she said.

If River thought she was changing the subject, she didn’t let it show. “Certainly,” said River.

“She asked me if I wanted to go to university after finishing my A-levels,” said Rose.

“What did you tell her?” asked River.

“I said I didn’t want to, but she asked me to think about it,” said Rose. “And I think she’s right. I think I want to study at university.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” asked River.

“Of course, it is!” said Rose, irritated at her calm tone. “I’m not like you, River! I don’t have a posh accent or a-a fancy education. I’m barely smart enough to even sit my A-levels, let alone pass them! Even if by some miracle, I get into university, I’m not smart enough to graduate. All I’ll do is set myself up for disappointment and crushing debt that I’ll have to pay off for the rest of my life!” She stopped, trying to catch her breath after spilling out every bit of insecurity she’d been suppressing since her conversation with Azalea.

“And so you want to give up before even trying?” asked River, in that same calm tone. “Because you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” said Rose, temper flaring.

To her surprise, River smiled like nothing made her prouder. “Good,” she said. “Then don’t let anyone tell you that you are incapable of going after something you want.”

“What?” asked Rose, confused.

“Your friend,” said River. “I assume you spoke to your friend about this and she said you were reaching beyond your means. You’re letting her words affect you.”

“Of course I am,” said Rose, rolling her eyes. “She’s known me all my life. She knows exactly where I come from and what I’m capable of.”

“I’m sure she does,” River conceded. “So what? You’re giving up because of her? I thought you were insistent you would make choices of your own free will.”

Rose narrowed her eyes at her, but didn’t argue the point. “I just feel like I’m kidding myself,” she said, the fight seeping out of her.

“Maybe, but wouldn’t you rather know than assume that is how things will end up,” said River, with a twinkling smile. “Do you know what you want to study?”

Rose blinked at her, but then nodded. “Archaeology,” she said, nervously. River’s eyebrows shot up, and Rose continued before she had a chance to speak. “It’s not just because you’re an archaeologist,” she added, quickly. “I always liked history, yeah? And since learning about archaeology, I have become more interested in it.” She took another deep breath. “I am making this decision of my own free will.”

River chuckled. “I believe you, but it’s not a bad thing if I have influenced you either, Rose,” she said. “We have free will, yes, but we are also influenced by the people around us and the circumstances that we go through.” She considered Rose carefully. “For what it’s worth, I think it’s a good idea. You have an aptitude for archaeology and if you like it, that’s an excellent starting point. Have you given any thought to where you’d want to go for university?”

Rose shook her head. “Azalea suggested Oxford and they have a very good Archaeology and Anthropology program but there is no way I can get into Oxford. And even if by some miracle I did, I couldn’t afford it.”

River paused thoughtfully. “Getting in isn’t a problem. You’re smart enough,” she said, as if it weren’t even an issue. “Money is a problem, yes. What about government support?”

Rose shrugged. “I’ll have to look into it, but my mum always said it was expensive,” she admitted.

“See how much you qualify for and you’ll know how much savings you need on top of it,” said River. “You could work more hours during term breaks, if you want as well.”

“Really?” asked Rose.

“Of course,” said River. “Don’t sell yourself short, Rose,” she added. “You are extremely smart and you pick things up easily. There’s no harm in trying, is there? It has to be better than wondering what would have happened if you had.”

Rose knew she was right, and nodded to let her know she understood. “Thank you, River,” she said. “Really, I mean it. You’ve been going out of your way for me.”

River looked surprised and then smiled warmly. “I am sure you will return the favour some day,” she said, and there was something about her words that made Rose feel like she meant it deeply.

Rose didn’t quite know how to respond to that, and was glad when River cleared her throat and changed the subject. “Speaking of Azalea, she dropped by today.”

“She did?” asked Rose. “Any new updates on Calpurnius?”

“Not this time,” said River. “She brought something to my attention.”

“What is it?” asked Rose, sitting up in interest.

“One of Daniel’s contacts has alerted him of an unusual flower growing in the woods near Cardiff,” she said. “Daniel and Azalea are too busy with Calpurnius and she asked if we would investigate it instead. I was thinking of making a trip there this weekend, and I’d like it if you came along.” 

Rose nodded eagerly, and River smiled back. “Good, it’s settled then.”

“Thank you, River,” said Rose, honestly. “Truly.”

~

Saturday dawned cloudy and dull, and Rose was up at six a.m. She was not a morning person at all, but she was excited for this trip. Her mum was already up and in the kitchen, when Rose emerged out with her backpack.

“Are you sure about this, Rose?” asked Jackie, as she poured her a cup of tea. “The whole business seems dodgy, if you ask me.”

Rose hadn’t disclosed the full nature of her job to her mum. As far as Jackie knew, Rose just worked for an ordinary PI. She was usually a bit miffed that Rose wouldn’t tell her all the gossip that her boss managed to unearth, but Rose always said it was confidential.

“Mum, I told you, it’s fine,” said Rose. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Jackie sniffed but didn’t argue the point. Rose finished her tea and a couple pieces of toast, before rushing out of her seat.

“Be careful,” said Jackie, as Rose kissed her goodbye.

“Always am,” called out Rose, as she left the flat.

She met River in front of the shop who, like Rose, was dressed warmly. They took a cab to Paddington Station, and from there a three hour train journey took them to Cardiff. They checked into a hotel near the train station into a room with twin beds and had fish and chips for lunch, before River hired a car to drive them out to Roundstone Wood where the mysterious flower was said to be.

“Are we meeting Daniel’s contact there?” asked Rose, as River drove them toward their destination.

“Yes, her name is Irene Morgan,” said River. “She’s a local school teacher.”

They pulled up toward the edge of the woods, where a brunette woman in her early twenties was waiting. She raised a hand in greeting when River and Rose stepped out of the car.

“Professor Song?” she asked.

“That’s me,” said River.

“Irene Morgan,” she said, shaking River’s hand.

“Call me River,” said River, with a smile. “This is Rose Tyler.”

“Hello, Rose,” said Irene, shaking her hand as well. “You two are right on time. Ready to head in?”

“Of course,” said River. “Anything we need to know before we go in?”

Irene chuckled. “Are either of you superstitious?” she asked.

“Not really,” said Rose.

“Why do you ask?” asked River, and Rose saw a slightly wary expression on her face.

“The locals believe it is bad luck to walk through these woods after dark,” she said. “It was said that when Romans occupied Britain, they would avoid it entirely.”

“What did they think was in there?” asked Rose, curiously.

“Fairies,” said Irene.

“Fairies?” asked Rose incredulously, trying not to laugh.

“By all accounts, fae lore has been around for a long time,” said River, and Rose looked at her in surprise.

“You’re not saying it’s all true, are you?” asked Rose.

River shrugged. “I am saying there are enough questions about it that I think it is worth not dismissing outright,” she said.

Irene seemed amused at their conversation as she led them through the woods. “My grandmother would tell me that fairies lived all over the world, but the veil between our world and theirs was thinner in some places than others,” she said. “These woods get their fair share of lore and sightings, enough that even the most rational of us avoid it after dark.”

“What kind of sightings?” asked River.

“Bright lights, mostly,” said Irene. “They disappear and appear all the time. And the children around here tend to have more imaginary friends than the national average.”

Rose looked at River, but her expression was thoughtful instead of incredulous. They walked for nearly half an hour, until they reached a natural archway of sorts, having formed because of vines and branches of the nearby trees.

“This is as far as I go,” said Irene, stopping in front of the archway.

“Why?” asked Rose.

Irene shook her head. “It may be superstition but I don’t like to go past the archway. My mother put the fear in me as a child, and I have never been back,” she said.

“How did you find out about the flower then?” asked River.

“Students mucking about,” said Irene, shaking her head. “It’s a quarter mile straight down. Bright purple flowers, an entire patch of them. You can’t miss it. I’ll wait for you here. Just remember, we have to be out of the woods by sundown so you have less than two hours to return here.”

Rose felt a slight shiver up her spine at her words. 

“Right,” said River, giving Rose a bolstering smile. “Let’s not waste any time then.”

Rose nodded and waved goodbye to Irene, who perched herself up on a nearby mossy tree log, and followed River past the archway. Nothing out of the ordinary seemed to happen, but Rose still felt goosebumps erupt across her arms. She glanced at River, but she seemed relaxed, which gave Rose more confidence and she shook off the ominous feeling before following her.

“Do you really think there are fairies here?” asked Rose. “Are fairies even real?”

“I like to assume everything is real, until proven otherwise,” said River.

“Do you think fairies are aliens?” asked Rose.

“Maybe, or the more likely theory is that they’re of this planet,” said River.

Rose chuckled, but saw that River did not look amused. “You’re serious?’ asked Rose.

River just shrugged. Like Irene had said, about a quarter of a mile ahead, they happened upon an entire patch of unusual purple flowers.  
“What the hell?” murmured Rose, as she saw a bright glow around the flowers, making them stand out starkly against the rest of the woods.

“Interesting,” said River. “They look to be of Earth, certainly.”

“They’re glowing,” Rose pointed out, wondering if River was deliberately being dense.

River laughed. “I can see that, but I mean the flowers themselves. They’re ordinary sweet violets,” she said.

Rose looked back at the flowers and saw that River was right. “Then what’s making them glow?” asked Rose.

“I’m not entirely sure,” said River, as she knelt next to the patch.

“Don’t smell them,” said Rose cheekily, remembering the old wives’ tale. “They steal your sense of smell.”

River raised her eyebrows and chuckled. “It’s the beta-ionone,” she said. “It temporarily shuts off your smell receptors.”

“Why do you even know that?” asked Rose, amused.

“Benefits of being around a know-it-all,” said River.

“I know the feeling,” said Rose pointedly, and River rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

Rose left River to examine the odd flower patch and glanced around to see if there was anything else of interest. She saw a small blinking light that disappeared as soon as she focused on it. She almost called out for River, but she heard River take out her camera and start taking photos, so she didn’t want to disturb her.

“It’s lost.”

Rose whipped her head around at the whisper. It definitely had not sounded like River, but the voice had been female. 

“Ssh, keep your voice down!”

“Now, you’ve done it!”

Rose blinked and then suddenly she was surrounded by bright lights. She turned around to call for River, but River was gone, and there was no one near the patch of the glowing flowers. Rose felt her heart drop and her skin prickled with building fear.

“Calm down, they do not mean you harm.”

Rose glanced toward the voice and saw a beautiful woman standing a few feet away. She was tall, easily over six feet in height, with pale, almost translucent skin, and silky black hair that reached the forest floor. Her features were slightly elongated, in an odd elfin manner, and she had eyes the colour of moss. She was also completely nude with the exception of a crown of sweet violets on her head, and she was surveying Rose with a small, amused smile.

“Where am I?” asked Rose, looking around frantically. “Where’s River?”

“We pulled you past the curtain,” said the woman, and all the bright lights went to her side.

“Why?” asked Rose.

“She’s not pure!” whispered one of the bright lights and Rose glared at it. 

“Oi, no one asked you,” snapped Rose, cheeks turning pink.

“Hush, no bullying the human child,” the woman told the bright light. She looked at Rose. “My name is Violet. This is my court.”

“You’re a fairy?” asked Rose, astonished.

“Yes,” said Violet, taking a step forward. “What’s your name, child?”

“Rose,” she said.

Violet seemed to find that amusing. “A flower, too,” she said. “What brings you to my court, little flower?”

“You said you were the one who pulled me past the curtain,” said Rose, confused.

“I know, I meant what brought you to these woods,” asked Violet.

“The flowers,” said Rose. “The sweet violets that were glowing.”

Violet blinked in confusion, but then one of the twinkling lights whispered, “The unearthly.”

“Oh, yes,” said Violet, and to Rose’s surprise, she looked furious. “Those beasts!” snarled Violet, and Rose had to shrink back in fear as the anger twisted her features into something inhuman. “Sorry, child,” said Violet, her anger calming down slightly, though her eyes were still blazing. “My anger is not with you.”

“What’s the unearthly?” asked Rose. 

“Those unsightly beasts that came to my court and desecrated it,” snarled Violet. 

“They are not of this world,” said one of the bright lights. “They came in a vessel.”

“A vessel? Like a spaceship?” asked Rose, eyes going wide.

Violet nodded. “The vessel was responsible for causing the glow, as you call it, child,” she said. “It spilled…” she paused and looked at the lights for help.

“Fuel, Highness,” answered one of them helpfully. “They called it fuel.”

“There was a spillage?” asked Rose, her mind going to an oil spill, though she didn’t think Violet or her court would understand if she tried to say that. “That’s what caused the flowers to glow like that?”

“Yes,” said one of the lights. 

“Are the unearthly...the aliens, are they still around?” asked Rose.

Violet shook her head. “Gone,” she said. “Left behind their foul,” she grumbled.

“Fuel, Highness,” corrected one of the courtiers.

Violet rolled her eyes before smiling at Rose. “Little flower, would you like to make a deal?” she asked.

Every story that Rose had ever heard about fairies told her she absolutely did not want to make a deal with them. Violet chuckled when she saw the wide-eyed look of fear on Rose’s face.

“I do not intend to trick you, little flower,” said Violet. “Our kind does not harm children. Even if they are no longer pure.”

Rose went red. “It’s not good to judge, you know,” she said, crossing her arms defensively.

Violet laughed and it sounded like tinkling bells. “If you and your friend can clean up what those brutes left behind in my court, I will grant you a favour. A favour you may call on at any time,” she said. 

“How do we clean it?” asked Rose.

“You remove the flowers, of course,” said Violet. “Well, little flower? What do you say?”

Rose considered it and then slowly gave a nod. When she blinked, Violet and her courtiers had disappeared, and a frantic River was staring at her.

“Rose!” said River, looking relieved to see her. “Oh, thank god! You’re back.”

“Back?” asked Rose, confused, but then realised it was pitch dark and the only light was a torch in River’s hand. “How long was I-?”

“Five hours,” said River. “Irene and I searched the area and then she left when the sun went down.” Rose noticed that River was shaking slightly and it hit her that she had been genuinely freaked out.

“River, I’m alright,” said Rose. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

River looked at her and to Rose’s surprise, she grabbed her into a tight hug. Rose patted her back awkwardly.

“Don’t do that again!” said River, when she pulled away.

“I won’t,” said Rose, a little amused despite everything. She had never seen River lose her cool like this before. Something occurred to her and the amusement faded. “What are you still doing here? It’s after dark. Irene said it wasn’t safe after dark.”

“You were missing, Rose,” said River, like Rose was being deliberately obtuse. “I wasn’t going to go to the hotel and order room service if you were missing.”

Rose stared at her, mouth wide open with shock. “You’re not my babysitter, River,” she said. “I’m not your responsibility.”

“I have so many things I could say to that, but we have to go. Now,” said River, grabbing her arm.

“No,” said Rose, shaking off her arm. “I promised Violet…”

“Who’s Violet?” asked River.

“Our queen,” said a voice, and Rose saw River’s jaw drop as a bright speck of light flew in and landed on Rose’s shoulder.

“Uh-so I saw the fairies,” said Rose, sheepishly. River looked at her incredulously. “I’m telling the truth, I swear. Violet is their queen. The forest is her court, she said. She pulled me past the curtain.”

“Time moves differently in our realm,” said the speck of light. “We did not mean to steal the human child for this long.”

“You-you said you promised her something,” said River, looking at Rose. “What did you promise this queen?”

“She said the flowers are glowing because of an alien ship,” said Rose. “She wants us to remove them from the forest.”

“Alien ship?” asked River, and then considered it thoughtfully. “It’s possible, I suppose.”

“I will lead you to safety,” said the speck, and flew away from Rose’s shoulder.

Rose and River exchanged a look but followed it. The speck of light led them out of the woods, before disappearing again.

“We’ll be back in the morning,” Rose called out, as the fairy disappeared. She could feel River’s eyes on her, but she didn’t say anything. “What?” Rose asked her finally, when they were up in the hotel room.

“Why did you agree to help this fairy queen?” asked River.

“Well, she didn’t give me much of a choice, to be honest,” chuckled Rose, but then saw the serious look on River’s face. “River, an alien spacecraft landed in those woods and I dunno...contaminated the land. I just want to help.”

“That is if the queen is telling you the truth,” said River, pointedly.

“Why would she lie?” asked Rose.

“Fae folk are known for their trickery,” said River.

“So you said, but they didn’t harm me,” said Rose. 

“Just because they didn’t do it now, doesn’t mean they won’t,” said River.

“Maybe, but I will still help them,” said Rose, stubbornly. 

“Because they asked?” asked River, incredulously.

“Yeah, because they asked,” said Rose. 

She thought River would argue, but she suddenly smiled and shook her head with an almost fond look on her face. “Alright then, let’s get some rest,” said River. “We’ll drive out early in the morning tomorrow.”

Rose blinked at her in surprise, unsure of what had changed River’s mind. She didn’t get a chance to ask her, because River hurried away to bed after that. Rose sat and read a book for a while since it was still early for her due to the lost time, but she eventually went to sleep as well.

The next morning, she and River drove out again and hiked their way back to the field of glowing violets. Hands in gardening gloves, the two of them uprooted all of the sweet violets in the patch, carefully collecting them into two large baskets. They didn’t see any of the fairies but the temperature around them seemed warmer than the cold March morning they had woken up to. 

When the last flower was removed from the Earth, Rose found herself back in Violet’s court. This time, River got to come with her.

“Thank you, little flower,” said Violet, with a serene smile. “You and your friend did well.”

“Do you need the flowers?” asked Rose.

“No, you can keep them as long as you leave no trace of them in my court,” said Violet, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

“Alright,” said Rose, with a glance at River who nodded.

“I am a queen of my word, little flower,” said Violet, as she moved toward Rose. It was a bit unnerving to have the tall, slender woman walk up to her in the nude, and Rose had to struggle just a bit to keep her eyes on her face. She had always considered herself to be like a 0 on the Kinsey scale but Violet was making her think it was maybe a 2. “You can ask your favour. It can be now or a hundred years from now.”

“I don’t have anything I want to ask of you today,” said Rose, honestly.

Violet’s features softened. “Such a sweet one,” she said, and her moss green eyes seemed to bore into Rose’s. “There is something about you, little flower. Quite like a wol…”

“Alright, stop,” said River, firmly.

Violet’s eyes swivelled to hers and she smirked a little. “There is no reason to feel left out, child,” she said. “You are no less special.”

River narrowed her eyes at her. “Be careful,” said River, with a hint of warning in her tone.

Violet smirked again before turning to Rose, who was growing increasingly confused at the cryptic conversation. “Take care, little flower,” she said, touching a hand to Rose’s cheek.

Rose blinked and found herself back in the forest. She glanced around but River had not returned. Before she could panic too much, River returned as well, and her face was slightly pinched like it got when she was trying not to appear too angry.

“What happened?” asked Rose.

“Nothing,” said River, shortly. “Meddlesome fairies,” she muttered, and Rose didn’t know if she was supposed to have heard that. “Let’s go,” she said, as they gathered the baskets and began their trek back in silence.

Rose waited until they were driving back to the hotel to broach the subject. “Did she say something to you after I left?” asked Rose. “Violet, I mean.”

River’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “No,” she said, and Rose rather thought she was lying.

But there was an odd sadness on River’s face, so Rose just nodded and let it go. She was learning that River got a bit sad sometimes, but Rose was scared to ask about her reasons.

“I think I want to go to Oxford,” said Rose.

That seemed to snap River out of her thoughts and she glanced at Rose. Rose smiled at her, and River slowly smiled back.

“Excellent,” beamed River. “Let’s come up with a plan, shall we?”


	4. The Captain in Navy

“Rose!”

The sound of her name made her turn around, and she smiled at the young man who ran up to her.

“Hi, Mickey,” she said. “Been a while.”

“And whose fault is that?” he laughed as he gave her a big hug.

“Yours, as always,” she said cheekily, as she pulled away. “Aren’t you warm in that?” she asked, looking at his overalls.

“Dying,” he laughed. “You don’t look much better either, you know.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, but knew her uniform was sweaty as well. “Thankfully I won’t have to wear it until school starts back in autumn,” she said.

“You done with your exams then?” asked Mickey as he fell into step with her.

“Yeah, had the last one today,” she said. “How’s your apprenticeship going?”

“Good,” he nodded. “I’ve got another month and Bill said he’ll consider me for the junior mechanic position after that.”

“Well done, Mickey,” beamed Rose. “Knew you had it in you.”

“Thanks, Rose,” he said, bumping his shoulder against hers. “So, what are you up to? Still got that job at the PI’s?”

“Yeah, but I had the week off for exams,” said Rose. “I start back again tomorrow. River’s letting me work full-time during summer. I can definitely use the money.”

Mickey was quiet for a moment. “Jackie mentioned you were looking at going to university,” he said, finally.

Rose gave him a look. “Mentioned it? Or yelled out how I was dreaming and didn’t have a chance in hell?” she asked.

“The second one,” he grinned, and Rose rolled her eyes but smiled. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?” he asked, amusement slipping away a little.

Rose shrugged. “Nothing to lose by trying, is there?” she asked. She glanced away from him, because she knew he would be looking at her with pity, too. It was the same look she had been getting from all her other friends and some of her teachers for the past few months. She was used to it by now, but knew it would hurt being on the receiving end of that look from her oldest friend.

“Well,” said Mickey, awkwardly. “Good luck, then.”

Rose gave him a small smile. “Thanks, Mickey,” she said, seeing her building come into view. “I’ll see you around.”

Mickey looked at her like he wanted to say something else, but he nodded and waved as he jogged away. Rose continued on her way home, her thoughts melancholic. She and Mickey had only recently been on talking terms again, and she was grateful they’d managed to salvage their friendship, especially since she had been the one to ditch him for Jimmy. 

Jimmy was ancient history by now, having moved onto his next conquest and left the poor girl £1,200 in debt before running off to Amsterdam with the next girl foolish enough to buy into his lies. Rose didn’t need whatever-the-hell power Lia had, to know she had absolutely made the right choice that night to decide against going to Jimmy.

The flat was empty when she got home, so Rose took a nice, freezing cold shower, wishing the depressing late June heat would go away. She got dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, before sitting in front of her dresser to brush through her hair. 

Her mum had given her a haircut last week, but there hadn’t been time to let her dye it so the roots were coming in. She would definitely need to get her mum to fix it this week. It would mean three hours of her mum chattering about how Rose needed to get her head screwed on straight and forget the whole university nonsense, but it wasn’t like she had any other choice unless she wanted to fork out an ungodly amount of money to get her hair done at a salon. Or she could just let them grow out, she supposed, wondering if the dark blonde would suit her.

She spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning her room and folding away clothes, since her mum had done laundry earlier that day. Once she was done, she carefully piled up her books and notebooks and put them away in a box to be placed at the back of her wardrobe. The school year was over and there was no need for those books anymore. 

When the room was tidy, Rose pulled out her journal and flipped back to an earmarked page. Looking at the timeline, she carefully circled the word ‘June’.

Oxford’s brochures said that students who wanted to attend in autumn the year after to choose their course and figure out the requirements by June. Rose had already looked into the course and the requirements for the Archaeology and Anthropology program. There was no entry test for the program; she only had to submit two written pieces by mid-November and if selected, attend an interview in December. Conditional offers would go out in January and then she only had to make sure she got the A-levels she needed next summer.

“Easier said than done,” muttered Rose, closing the journal and putting it away. She’d need three As even if she did get the conditional entry. She qualified for enough government assistance to cover the tuition fees, though it would be a loan she would need to pay back eventually. She and River had worked out that if Rose kept working the hours that she was and worked full-time during the term breaks, she would save up enough for the room and board for the first year at least. Rose would definitely need to get a job when she started at Oxford, but there was a plan for now.

Rose must have taken a nap because she was woken up by the sound of a slamming door. She could hear her mother out in the flat and a quick glance at her alarm clock said it was 7.33 in the evening.

“Rose! You gave me a fright!” said Jackie, when Rose emerged out of her room. “I thought you were at work.”

“I start back up tomorrow,” said Rose. “Did you eat yet?”

“I went out for dinner with Bev and the girls,” said Jackie. “There’s curry from yesterday in the fridge if you want.” Rose nodded and went to heat up the leftovers. “How was your exam today?”

“Fine, better than I expected,” said Rose absently, pulling out a plate.

“What about the rest of the exams?” asked Jackie.

Rose paused and glanced at Jackie. She was looking at the telly, but Rose knew her mother better than anyone and she knew when she was doing her best to appear nonchalant.

“Yeah, fine,” said Rose, keeping a keen eye on her.

Jackie nodded and there was silence for a few moments. Just as Rose thought her mum had changed her mind, Jackie spoke again.

“When do you need to start applying for university then?” asked Jackie.

Rose stared at her, not having expected that. “November,” she answered. Jackie nodded and kept watching the telly, seemingly bringing the conversation to an end. “Why do you care?” muttered Rose.

“I heard that,” said Jackie, sharply. 

Rose rolled her eyes and decided to go and eat in her room instead. 

“I care, Rose,” said Jackie, turning the telly off. “I care about my own daughter’s future.”

Rose felt her irritation flare. “You have a funny way of showing it then,” she said, setting her plate down and crossing her arms angrily.

“Don’t you get smart with me, Rose Marion Tyler,” said Jackie. 

“Mum, you just spent months telling me how I don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting into university,” snapped Rose. “And now you suddenly care how my exams were?”

Jackie shook her head in apparent disbelief. “Forget it,” she said. Rose shook her head and turned to go to her room. “You’re too much like your father, you know that? Head in the clouds, stomping around us mortals like we are holding them back.”

Rose stopped and turned to her mother in shock. Jackie never spoke about Pete Tyler in that manner, not ever. She had always told Rose stories about how he was the greatest man she had ever known, the best father.

Jackie’s eyes went wide as well, as if she hadn’t meant to say that. “I…” she paused and glanced away. “Never mind.”

“No, I want to know!” said Rose, anger flaring in her eyes even as she felt like she was rather close to tears. 

Jackie was shaking her head and Rose thought she looked very tired and sadder than Rose had ever seen her. “Never mind, I must have had too much wine with dinner,” she said. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Maybe not, but you did mean it,” argued Rose. 

“No, I didn’t,” said Jackie, voice shaking and looking so very vulnerable that Rose felt her anger seep out of her.

“Mum,” said Rose, going over to her. “What’s going on?”

“I always thought,” murmured Jackie, as if she hadn’t quite heard Rose’s words. “If I’d believed in him, that if he’d met a woman who’d believed in him rather than someone like me…I know we can’t change what happened in the past, but…”

“But what?” asked Rose. She had never seen her mother like this, not even at her drunkest, and she had to wonder how much Jackie had been keeping bottled up inside her all these years. “Mum, what are you talking about?”

“Pete, he was...smart,” she said.

“I know, you told me,” said Rose. “You said he was always inventing things.”

“No, I mean, he was very smart,” said Jackie, her gaze boring into Rose’s. “He always kept saying he was one idea away…‘just one, Jacks.’ I never believed him, because no matter how smart he was, he was dreaming if he thought it would take him away from the Estate.” Jackie’s face fell into a look of deep sorrow. “I knew he was right. Knew he was smart enough that he could leave the Estate behind and take over the world. I was jealous.”

Rose blinked in shock. “Why?”

“Because he would have left me behind,” chuckled Jackie bitterly.

“He wouldn’t have left you behind,” said Rose. “He loved you.” Jackie smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m not leaving you behind either,” she said, finally realising the reason behind Jackie’s behaviour about Rose’s decision to go to university. “Not ever.”

Jackie smiled and placed a hand on Rose’s shoulder. “Eat your dinner before it gets cold,” she said. 

Before Rose could protest, she went to her room and closed and locked the door. Rose remained standing in the living room for a long time, wondering why things could never be simple.

~

Jackie was gone by the time Rose woke up next morning. Rose didn’t know if it was on purpose or if Jackie had had some plans in place, which would not be out of the ordinary at all. Knowing the conversation would have to wait, Rose got dressed and went to work.

Despite the row with her mother the evening before, Rose was oddly excited to get back to work. She was also looking forward to catching up with River and maybe even getting some advice about how to broach the topic with Jackie again. Rose did not like fighting with her mother, despite the fact that it seemed like all they did these days was fight with each other.

But when Rose got to the Luna Detective Agency, the door was locked. It was not unsurprising since the shop didn’t open for another ten minutes but River usually left the door unlocked for Rose. Rose shrugged and unlocked the shop with the key that River had given her not long after they had returned from Cardiff.

The shop’s interior was always dark, even during the day, and the lights needed to be on at all times. However, when Rose stepped inside, the lights were off. She fumbled in the dark for a moment before turning the lights on.

“River?” she called, seeing that the shop was empty. Rose frowned and went to check the backroom, which was similarly empty. When she came back out, she saw a man in the shop who seemed to have just walked in. He was tall and very fit with dark hair, handsome features and blue eyes, and appeared to be wearing an old-fashioned navy coat from World War II.

Rose blinked a few times, because he was a bit too handsome for her brain to form words right away. “Oh, hello,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear in an involuntary motion. “Sorry, we’re not open yet,” she added, as she forced her monkey brain to take a backseat.

“You must be Rose,” he said, with a wide beaming smile which did not help her monkey brain situation. “River described you to a tee.” She noticed he had an American accent.

Rose smiled uncertainly as the man approached her and offered his hand. When she took it, instead of shaking her hand, he kissed the back of it and winked at her.

“Captain Jack Harkness,” he said. “Very nice to meet you.”

“R-right,” said Rose, eyes wide as he slowly released her hand. “I’m Rose Tyler,” she added, belatedly.

“I know,” he said. “River said you’d be here, though I was hoping to get here before you to avoid confusion.”

“What?” asked Rose, confused regardless as Jack walked past Rose to River’s desk, and pulled off his coat and hung it up on the back of River’s chair.

He smiled at Rose and rolled up the sleeves of his blue button-up shirt to the elbow. “River got called away on an expedition,” he said. “She asked me to come and run the shop for a few days.”

Rose was still a bit confused, and Jack chuckled as he rifled through his trouser pockets before pulling out a folded note that he held out to Rose.

She took it and saw ‘Rose Tyler’ written on it in River’s writing. With a slightly suspicious look at Jack, Rose unfolded the note.

_Dear Rose,_

_My apologies for not giving you any more notice. I have been called away on an expedition and I won’t have access to my phone or the internet so I thought this would be the easiest way to let you know. I don’t anticipate being gone for long; a week at the latest._

_I have asked an old friend of mine to come and watch the shop. Despite how he may look, Jack is very knowledgeable about our line of work. Trust him as you would trust me. If he flirts too much, remind him you’re seventeen still._

_Look after the shop in my absence. I’ll see you soon._

_Love,  
River_

Rose looked up at Jack, who had apparently gone and put the kettle on while she’d been reading River’s note.

“Don’t worry, I know you’re seventeen,” said Jack, with a grin. “River was sure to point that out thoroughly. I was a little insulted, if I’m honest.”

Rose chuckled, despite herself. “How do you know River?” she asked, putting the note in the back pocket of her jeans before moving to help Jack make tea.

“We’re in the same line of work,” he said, stepping aside to allow Rose to make tea for both of them.

Rose looked at him in interest. “Are you an archaeologist too?” she asked.

“No sugar in mine,” he said, just as Rose was reaching for the sugar bowl.

Rose wondered if he’d dodged her question deliberately as she handed him his cup of tea without the sugar. “You said you’re a captain?” she asked, remembering how he’d introduced himself.

“Did I?” he asked, lightly. “Force of habit. I’m no longer a captain.”

Rose thought there was something slightly subdued in his tone when he said that, so she hastily decided to change the subject. Their neighbour two doors down was an Army veteran and Rose had learned very early on not to pry too much when it came to soldiers. Jack certainly looked like a soldier and when she glanced at his face, she saw that there was some sort of a deep sadness in his blue eyes though it was gone the next moment when he noticed Rose’s gaze on him.

“So, River tells me you just finished for your exams,” he said, taking a seat in River’s chair.

“Yeah,” said Rose, as she took her own cup and sat down in her usual chair opposite River’s chair. “Just school exams. I don’t do my A-levels until next year.”

Jack nodded and sipped his tea. “Any plans after school?”

Rose hesitated briefly, but Jack’s gaze was clear and curious. “I’m applying to Oxford,” she said.

“Oh, interesting,” he said. “To study archaeology, I assume?”

Rose nodded, glad that he didn’t have that judgmental or pitying look she had been used to getting. She immediately liked Jack a bit more. 

“Fair play,” he grinned. “Archaeology isn’t to my personal taste, but I see the appeal.”

“So, how do you know about all this stuff?” asked Rose, curious how other people got involved in it. 

“I’ve been around the block a few times,” he said. “Seen a few things, met a few people who had seen a few things, you know how it goes.”

Rose rather thought that was not an answer at all, but smiled and sipped her tea instead of prying. He paused briefly, as if she had surprised him somehow. “What?” asked Rose.

“Nothing,” he said, and then smiled to himself as he drank his tea. “So, what does River have you do around here?”

“I don’t think we have any clients coming in today, unless we get any walk-ins,” shrugged Rose. “Otherwise, I’m in the middle of sorting out River’s book collection, which isn’t very exciting but needs to be done.”

Jack nodded and regarded her contemplatively. “How do you feel about a field trip then?” he asked.

Rose’s eyes lit up immediately. “You’ve got a case?” she asked.

“I’m not sure yet,” he said. “I’ve received a tip-off about a guy around here who apparently has quite the collection of alien artefacts. I want to see if any of them are genuine.”

Rose frowned a little. “Do you think he’ll just let us investigate?” she asked.

Jack grinned and finished the rest of his tea. “I’m hoping having you with me will soften the old fellow a little,” he said. “What do you say?”

Rose narrowed her eyes at him, not appreciating that she’d been reduced to being the pretty young thing for Jack to find a way in to inspect those artefacts, but unable to stop her curiosity from showing. 

Jack grinned again as if he’d known what she was thinking and stood up. “Excellent,” he said. “Shall we, Rose?”

~

The little house in Putnam was in a quiet neighbourhood and was identical to all the other houses on the street. Jack drove them in a dark SUV, tinted windows and all, and parked one street away from their destination. When Rose asked why, Jack just answered he didn’t want to announce their presence to the whole street. Rose wasn’t sure why anyone would care about the SUV but didn’t push the issue.

Jack strode up to one of the houses and rang the doorbell. Rose stood behind him a little, as the door was opened by a middle-aged man with thinning red hair and a sallow face. He scowled when he saw Jack and crossed his arms.

“Mr Harkness, I thought I told you I was not interested,” said the man.

“Mr Robbins, how are you today?” asked Jack, and though Rose couldn’t see his face, she knew Jack would be laying the charm on thick, judging by his tone.

“Not interested, Mr Harkness,” repeated Mr Robbins.

“Did I introduce Miss Rose Tyler?” asked Jack, stepping aside slightly.

The man, Mr Robbins, sighed in exasperation but when he saw Rose, his demeanour softened a little. “Hi,” said Rose, with her best charming smile.

“Rose here works for a friend of mine and is interested in alien artefacts,” said Jack, clearly seeing the opening. “I told her that you’re rumoured to have easily the best collection outside of whatever the government has in their vaults.”

Rose almost turned to Jack in surprise at the mention of the government knowing about aliens, before realising it made perfect sense. If ordinary citizens had noticed, surely the government had too. The thought did not inspire any confidence, and she added it to the ever-growing list of questions in her head.

Mr Robbins sighed again. “Fine,” he said, stepping aside to invite them in. “Come in.”

Jack winked at Rose as they walked into the house. Mr Robbins closed the door and fixed them both with a firm stare in the entry hallway.

“I have some conditions,” he said, looking at Jack as he said it.

“We won’t remove any artefacts,” said Jack, without missing a beat. “We will only be cataloguing. And it goes without saying but we will not be divulging any details to anyone.”

Mr Robbins nodded and after yet another piercing look at Jack, he led them down the hallway and opened the door at the very end. “I know exactly where everything is,” he warned them as he let the two of them into the room. “I’ll know if you take anything.”

“Thank you, Mr Robbins,” said Jack, but Rose’s attention was on the room which was chock full of...everything. 

Rose had never been particularly neat in her life but even her skin was crawling at the sight of the room. She vaguely heard the door close and she checked to see Mr Robbins wasn’t in the room with them before turning to Jack. “It’s like a hoarder’s room,” she whispered to him. 

The large, rectangular room might have been the master bedroom at one point, but it had been turned into a room for Mr Robbins’ collection. It was full of random bookshelves, tables, desks and end tables of various shapes and sizes, all of them strewn with odds and ends all over the surfaces and even the floor. There was barely room for the two of them to stand, and though she wasn’t claustrophobic by any means, Rose felt a bit uneasy just the same.

Jack’s eyes were looking around as well and at Rose’s words, he grinned down at her. “The good thing is, it will keep us busy,” he said, taking off his coat and hanging it up on a hook on the back of the door, which thankfully was empty. “Ready to do this?”

Rose nodded and pulled out two pairs of white gloves, along with a camera, notebook and pen from her satchel before hanging the satchel on the same hook as Jack’s coat.

Jack smiled at Rose gratefully when she handed him a pair of gloves before putting on the other pair. He moved to the top right corner of the room and picked up what looked like a metal snuff box. “Interesting,” he murmured, examining it carefully. “Unless, I’m mistaken, this is a recording device favoured by the Uvodni.” He glanced at Rose, who had already started to take notes without needing to be prompted. “They are an alien race from the Spiral Cluster in the Dragon nebula…”

~

“Morning, Jack,” greeted Rose, and Jack raised a hand in greeting. Rose belatedly noticed he had his cellphone pressed to his ear and mouthed a quick apology.

“Yeah, just keep me posted,” he said, to the person on the other end of the line. “Thanks, Susie. Bye.” He hung up and smiled at Rose. “Sorry about that, Rose.”

“Everything alright?” asked Rose.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just a minor work crisis.”

Rose nodded. Over the past three days and between cataloguing various artefacts in Mr Robbins’ spare room, Rose had learned a few things about Jack.

For one, he worked for some sort of an organisation but wasn’t allowed to divulge details of his job to civilians. He’d sounded honest when he’d said that so Rose thought it must have something to do with his past in the military and had not pried any further. The other thing, she had learned about Jack Harkness, was that he knew a lot. And by a lot, Rose meant _a lot_.

Each artefact they examined in Mr Robbins’ spare room, Jack would know a great deal more than anyone Rose had known so far, including River. That wasn’t to say he knew everything, but he knew more than what Rose had come to expect. His methods, however, were completely different to River’s.

While River was all about the history and authenticating the artefact with appropriate archeological techniques, Jack’s methods were more...avant garde. 

Each artefact would be accompanied by a story. Like the time he’d salvaged the recording equipment from an Uvodni ship and used it to keep a record of his favourite concerts. Or the time that he had used a transfusion module from a medical ship belonging to the Sontarans to replenish his blood supply so he could continue drinking without getting drunk in order to win a game of cards. Or the time he had run naked through a forest, after being shot with a tranquilising gun full of a hallucinogenic drug from Alpha Centauri. Or the time...well, Rose got the picture after a few hours of such stories.

She had no idea if they were all tall tales, but he really did show her how the Uvodni recording equipment and the Sontaran transfusion module worked and Rose couldn’t help but be fascinated by the breadth of Jack’s knowledge and experience. She had asked him if he were an alien, but he’d denied it. When asked if he’d been to space, he had just shrugged with a secretive smile and Rose had been in complete awe of the fact.

“Most countries around the world have been involved in pushing the boundaries of space travel in some ways,” he’d told Rose, at one point. “There is a lot more beyond what they want civilians to know about. For example, did you know there has been a base on the moon since the 1960s? America was the first one, and now there are several functioning bases on the moon.”

“You’re having me on,” Rose had said, eyes wide.

“Not really,” he’d said, without missing a beat. “Governments all over the world have salvaged alien equipment and utilised it to expand their reach beyond the planet. I mean, considering the way this planet is going, do you not think it is wise for them to have options?”

Rose had thought about those words frequently for the past two days. It made sense; which is what it kept coming back to. It made sense for there to be aliens. It made sense for the technology belonging to those aliens coming to Earth in some form. It made sense for governments to use that technology to further their development. It all made sense.

And as River had said, Rose was seeing and experiencing these things with her own eyes and her own senses. She could not claim it was the tinfoil hat conspiracy of a lunatic when she saw the evidence right before her. 

“We should get going soon,” said Jack, now. “I think we should be able to finish up on the last few artefacts at Mr Robbins’ house.”

Rose nodded, not even having set her bag down, since she knew they would be going to Mr Robbins’ house. “Ready when you are,” she told Jack.

Jack grinned and the two of them locked up the shop before driving to Putnam again. Mr Robbins had softened a bit since his initial frosty reception and he had been content to leave them alone to their examination for the past couple of days. That morning, when he opened the door, he greeted them with a broad smile which caught both of them off-guard.

“Good morning,” he greeted. “Welcome, welcome, come in.”

Rose blinked in surprise and looked at Jack, who looked a bit taken aback as well. While Mr Robbins had started softening up, he still would not be this cheerful or welcoming. 

“I’ll leave you to your work then,” he said, stepping aside to let them in. “I’m afraid I have some reading to do so I’d rather not be disturbed.”

That sounded more like him, so they nodded in agreement and watched as he disappeared upstairs.

“Maybe he’s been smoking something from his herb garden,” said Jack, as he and Rose went into the artefacts room.

“Stop it,” giggled Rose. “He’s probably just tired of pretending to be crotchety around us.”

“Around you, you mean,” grinned Jack.

Rose just shrugged, as they got to work. 

“This is interesting,” said Jack, a little while later. He was holding up a metal ball the size of a baseball, with a smooth coppery surface. 

“What is it?” asked Rose.

“It’s a prison cell,” he said, and felt along the surface before grinning triumphantly as the sphere split in half. “An empty one, but a prison cell still.”

“Who is it supposed to hold?” asked Rose, eyeing the sphere’s size.

“Would you believe me if I said it was bigger on the inside?” he asked, as if it were an inside joke. 

Rose just raised her eyebrows at him, and he grabbed a nearby box that was considerably larger than the sphere. To Rose’s surprise, when he placed the box on top of one half of the sphere, the box vanished. Jack grinned at her before reaching inside the sphere and pulling out the box again.

“How does that even work?” asked Rose, amazed.

“Dimensional relativity,” said Jack, closing the sphere back up again. “It’s quite a find this one.”

“I wonder how he managed to get his hands on all these things,” said Rose, as she took careful notes about the prison cell.

“He won’t say,” said Jack. “I told him it was dangerous to keep them in a house in Putnam, but he’s not very open to feedback as you may have noticed.”

Rose shot him a smile but continued taking notes. “Couldn’t you...or the people you work for...couldn’t they convince him?” she asked.

He gave her a slightly amused look. “Maybe, but I am hoping to do it nicely and not frighten the poor man,” he said.

“Will they harm him?” asked Rose, stopping what she was doing. When Jack didn’t answer immediately, her concern grew. “Jack,” she prompted.

“No, not if I have anything to say about it,” he said, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“But you might not get a say about it,” said Rose, inferring his meaning without him having to say it. Jack didn’t respond and Rose supposed he didn’t have to, because she had hit it right on the head. She sighed a little and sat back. “Can I ask you something, Jack, and please, I’d like a straight answer. Don’t,” she added, before he could make the awful joke. It had only taken a few stories for Rose to learn that Jack was not what anyone would call ‘straight’ by any stretch of the imagination.

He grinned but nodded. “Fire away,” he said, setting the artefact down and looking at her.

“How did you get into this stuff?” she asked. “Your job, I mean?”

He considered her thoughtfully and smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I have always been a bit of a...drifter as you may say. One of my dealings...it brought me face to face with something. With someone, I should say.” His smile turned fond and he looked at Rose with a look she couldn’t decipher. “And it changed me. Changed in me in ways that I still can’t believe sometimes.”

“They must have been really special,” said Rose, since it was obvious by the way he spoke. He gave her a look and for some reason, it made her want to blush down to her very roots. “Is it the Doctor?” she blurted out.

Jack’s eyes went wide with confusion. “What?” he asked.

“You know, the one that River wants to find,” she said.

Jack chuckled. “Right,” he nodded. “No, I didn’t mean the Doctor.”

“But you know the Doctor?” asked Rose, noticing he didn’t seem confused about that part.

“I have heard of them, yes,” he said. “Hard not to.”

Rose nodded. “So you think they’re real,” she said.

“There’s enough floating around that I have no reason to think otherwise,” he said, and picked up the next artefact to examine. His brow wrinkled and frowned as he looked at it.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

“No,” he grimaced. “Just add it to the weapons list.”

Rose felt goosebumps erupt across her skin. They had found a few things in the room that Jack had said were weapons. None of them looked like any weapons Rose had ever seen but they sent a shiver of fear through her regardless. She’d naively asked Jack if there were evil aliens when they’d found the first weapon, a tranquilising gun that looked like an ordinary metal straw, only to have Jack point out that good and evil existed across all species, aliens or not.

“What is it?” asked Rose, about the artefact.

“A sonic blaster,” he said, his face grim as he examined it. “From the weapon factories of Villengard. 51st century.”

Jack’s eyes went wide and Rose’s mouth dropped open. “D-did you just say the 51st century?” asked Rose. “You did. I heard you,” she added, before he had a chance to deny it. “Jack,” she said sternly, when he didn’t respond.

He sighed and set the sonic blaster down. “Rose,” he said.

Rose shook her head. “Don’t try and deny it,” she said. “How can it be from 3000 years in the future?” she asked, before something else occurred to her. “And how could you even know about it?”

Jack’s phone rang loudly and he pulled it out of his pocket. “I have to take this,” he said, and answered the phone before Rose could protest. “Yeah? No, I can’t hear you. Susie, your voice is…” he pulled the phone away and frowned at it. “Hold on,” he said, holding it to his ear again. “I’m going to have to go outside.” He shot a look at Rose and left.

Rose stood up slowly, her mind going a thousand miles an hour. Jack...was he from the future? Or could he go to the future? “A time traveller,” she murmured, as she slowly paced the room, without even realising it. Of all the things she had encountered so far, time travel seemed the most far-fetched. She had to know; had to ask Jack if it was real and if he really was a time traveller.

The room to the door opened again and she turned toward it but instead of Jack, it was Mr Robbins.

“Is everything alright?” asked Mr Robbins. “I thought I heard the front door close.”

“Yeah, Jack’s just on his phone,” said Rose, trying to smile. “I think he was having a problem with the reception in here.”

“Not surprising,” said Mr Robbins. “All these artefacts make it difficult to get proper cell service in here.” He was looking around the room, and it took Rose a moment to realise what was wrong with that gesture. 

“Mr Robbins,” said Rose, looking at the man standing in the doorway and watching the room with undisguised fascination. “Are you alright?”

He looked at her and tilted his head questioningly. “Yes, of course,” he said.

Rose smiled, feeling her heart thundering in her chest. It sounded stupid, she knew it sounded stupid but she knew Mr Robbins did not usually look this fascinated by his own collection. He was protective, sure, but the way he had been looking around had been almost like he was looking at it for the first time. Even if Jack was right and he had been smoking (and Rose seriously doubted Mr Robbins took anything stronger than an aspirin), it would not explain it.

“I-I should go and see what’s holding Jack up,” said Rose, attempting to keep her smile steady as she went to walk past him.

“Why did you ask me?” asked Mr Robbins, blocking the door.

Rose stopped and struggled to hold her smile. “What?” she asked.

Mr Robbins stared at her, unblinkingly. “Why did you ask if I was alright?” he asked, and there was a strange echo to his voice that made Rose’s vision swim a little.

Rose took a step back, and another, not knowing what was happening but her instinct was screaming at her to run away.

Mr Robbins tilted his head unnaturally and Rose felt herself stumble a little. It was like being drunk and she could see double. Mr Robbins, or whatever he was, started walking toward Rose, head still tilted in that unnatural manner.

“You-what are you?” asked Rose, her tongue feeling sluggish as if she really were drunk.

“Clever one, aren’t you?” said Mr Robbins. “My venom is not slowing that brain of yours, but it’s working just fine otherwise. You won’t be standing in another minute.”

_Venom_ , blinked Rose, trying hard to focus. She had been drugged. She wasn’t sure how, but if she couldn’t run, she had to do something. Jack had left through the front door, so it meant he was all the way at the front of the house and Rose knew she didn’t have enough energy to scream even if he could hear her. She had to do something, and do it fast, because Mr Robbins was almost upon her.

Rose took another step back and bumped into a table. She glanced behind her and saw the metal straw that Jack had examined two days ago. _A tranquiliser gun_ , her brain supplied and she grabbed it quickly.

Mr Robbins stopped in his path when she pointed it at him. Rose blinked rapidly, trying to focus, and his face split open in a wide, grotesque grin.

“You need razor sharp focus to fire one of those,” he said. “I am betting you have ten seconds before you collapse.”

“No time to waste then,” was what she meant to say but it came out as garbled mumblings. He was right; Jack had told her that the tranquiliser gun was a highly precise weapon and the civilisation it belonged to would train for years to be able to accurately fire it. Rose couldn’t even see straight (ha!) to fire them.

“Shall we have a countdown?” asked Mr Robbins. “Seven...six...five…”

His words were distracting and it was making it even harder to focus. She quickly remembered an old tv show where a hunter had closed his eyes and used sound to guide his shot. 

“Four...” continued Mr Robbins. “Three…”

Hoping this insane plan worked, Rose closed her eyes and focused on his voice. 

“Two…”

Rose fired and opened her eyes, just in time to see a little silver needle sticking into Mr Robbins’ neck, stopping him in his path. She vaguely heard Jack calling for her, but she slumped to the floor, unconscious.

~

When Rose woke back up, it was on Mr Robbins’ sofa with Jack hovering over her.

“There she is,” he grinned, when her eyes opened. There was visible concern in his eyes but he looked relieved. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” said Rose, thankful that apart from her voice being a bit hoarse, the word came out fine. “Where’s-?”

“Mr Robbins?” he asked, and Rose nodded. “The real Mr Robbins is in a hospital, being treated for dehydration.”

“Wh-?” Rose was cut off as a cough racked through her.

“Easy there, kiddo,” said Jack, and held up a cup of water to her lips. Rose gratefully took a sip. “The other Mr Robbins was a member of a venomous species from a civilisation in the Horsehead nebula. They have the ability to shapeshift into other beings and it is their usual MO to infiltrate civilisations and feed from their victims before posing as them.”

“H-how did it get here?” asked Rose.

“Not sure but I suspect that’s what was inside that little prison cell we found today,” said Jack. “Mr Robbins, the real one, must have let it out yesterday. It had him tied up in his bedroom and was feeding from him.”

Rose felt a bit sick, before something else occurred to her. “I hit it with the tranquiliser gun,” she said.

“Yes,” he nodded, looking a bit proud. “I don’t know if it was luck or skill but you hit it where it hurts. I got there in time just to watch it collapse.”

“Where is it now?” asked Rose.

“Safe and in a place where it can’t harm anyone else,” said Jack, and judging by the look on his face, that was all he would say about it. 

“Alive?” persisted Rose, and was relieved when he nodded. “How long was I out?”

“A few hours. It’s about four in the afternoon. The venom will have worked itself out of your system,” said Jack. “Its only purpose is to immobilise its victims, not harm them permanently.”

Rose nodded and closed her eyes. “So you’re a time traveller, huh?” she asked. She opened her eyes and saw the look on his face.

“Rose,” he began.

“No, I am not letting this go,” said Rose, as she struggled to sit up. Jack huffed but helped her into a sitting position. 

“Rose…” said Jack, as he sat on the coffee table next to the sofa. “Time travel is...messy. I have to be careful.”

“So it’s true,” said Rose, leaning forward eagerly. “Time travel is real?” Jack chuckled but nodded. “And you’re from the future?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Why are you here?” asked Rose.

“I’m stuck,” he shrugged. “My ride’s gone so I’m...waiting, I guess.”

“For that someone?” asked Rose. “The one who changed you?”

Jack smiled and Rose thought she had once again hit the nail right on the head. Jack’s eyes softened and he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Come on,” he said, pulling away. “I’ll drive you home.”

Rose knew she was blushing but she didn’t protest as Jack helped her to her feet. She wasn’t quite sure what to say and it didn’t help that she didn’t know what the look in Jack’s eyes had been before he’d kissed her. He’d looked almost sad but strangely comforted as well. Rose knew whoever that person had been to change him meant a lot to Jack and hoped he found them again.

As they left Mr Robbins’ house behind, Rose finally said the only thing she could think to say under the circumstances. “I am only seventeen still, you know,” she said.

Jack glanced at her and then burst into peals of laughter. “Oh, Rose Tyler,” he said, and patted the top of her head affectionately. “Trust me when I say that if I ever make a pass at you, there will be a line of people waiting to kick my ass.”


	5. The Green Velvet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify, Oxford University has several colleges that offer different courses of study. When applying, students can make an open application or apply to one of the colleges in particular.

The first time Rose Tyler met the Doctor, it was a quiet evening in January, two months before Rose's eighteenth birthday.

Rose had been walking home from work when she had taken a detour through one of the nearby parks. It was the perfect time of the evening, really, since it was too late for the little kiddies to be still out playing but the delinquents wouldn't be around until a few hours later when their parents and/or guardians had gone to bed.

She decided a break was warranted and sat on one of the empty swings, swinging back and forth listlessly. The unopened thick envelope in her coat pocket felt like it weighed a ton and despite having received it a day ago, she still had not found the courage to open it.

The encounter with Lia had occurred over a year ago, and Rose's life had changed irrevocably since. A series of choices that had apparently led to her sitting alone in an empty park on a freezing cold evening.

Well, that was a bit unfair. It wasn't like Rose was alone in a metaphorical sense.

She had her mum who, while not completely on board with the university idea, had stopped actively discouraging her from it for the past few months. Rose hadn't had the chance to bring up their fight from last summer and it had been so long since then, that Rose had just chosen to let it go.

Apart from her mum, she also had Mickey although things were awkward on that front since New Years' Eve when he'd kissed her at midnight. Rose hadn't quite returned the kiss, and Mickey had been avoiding her since. She would need to sit him down and tell him she wasn't mad about the kiss, just caught off-guard. But she knew he'd want to make a proper go of things and Rose wasn't sure if she had the time or the inclination to get into a relationship at this time.

She also had River, who had returned from her expedition last summer after five days, and proceeded to thoroughly chew out Jack for putting Rose in danger, despite Rose telling her that it wasn't Jack's fault. Jack, to his credit, had borne the admonishment without protest. Rose had only seen Jack on a couple of other occasions after that, usually because River was needed elsewhere. Rose knew she had them both in her corner, so she was far from alone.

But that evening, she was feeling a bit too wrapped up in her own thoughts to be optimistic. The letter from Oxford had come at the right time for when they sent out conditional offers, but Rose wasn't certain it wasn't just a flat-out rejection. She had submitted her two written pieces in November, having selected them with River's guidance. Azalea had advised her to make an open application to Oxford instead of limiting herself to one of the colleges right from the onset. By some miracle (though both River and Jack were unsurprised), Rose had been invited to attend an interview by Hertford College.

The interview had been last month, and Rose had no idea how she had actually fared. Hertford College only offered 4 places for the Archaeology and Anthropology program every year and there had been at least three times as many people who had been interviewed that Rose knew of. Despite having borrowed a suit from River for the occasion, Rose had felt incredibly out of place both before and during the interview.

Despite her nervousness though, Rose had absolutely fallen in love with Oxford. The entire campus exuded a charm and warmth that she was unable to articulate, and Hertford College itself was incredibly beautiful. Rose knew she would be extremely lucky if she got to study at Hertford. The questions they had asked during the interview weren't too difficult and all those hours of watching River work had certainly paid off. Rose didn't want to be too confident, but she thought that the interviewers had been impressed that she already had an archaeologist who was mentoring her.

A slight sound made her jump and glance off to the side. She noticed a movement in the shadows and stood up quickly. A few seconds later, a man stumbled out of the shadows, appearing to be quite alone. Rose glanced at him in concern as he steadied himself against the monkey bars.

"You alright, mate?" she called out.

She saw his head turn in her direction and she could tell he appeared to have long curly hair, but she couldn't make out his clothing or features. He started to move toward her but stumbled against the monkey bars again.

"Too much to drink?" she asked, sympathetically.

"I don't think so," he said, and Rose's eyebrows shot up at the posh voice.

He slowly walked toward Rose and her eyebrows climbed higher. The man was dressed in old-fashioned Edwardian clothing - grey trousers, white wing-collared shirt, silver waistcoat complete with a pocket watch, and a green velvet coat. He had long curly chestnut hair and a rather handsome face. She couldn't see his eyes clearly but thought they may be blue.

Rose stood rooted to the spot, as the man stumbled over and then sat down on the other swing.

"Are you coming home from a party or something?" asked Rose, puzzled by his clothing and overall appearance.

He shook his head and there was a look of confusion and slight distress on his face. Against her better judgment, Rose sat back down on the swing, facing him. He looked toward her with a slightly lost look in his eyes (and yes, they were blue).

Rose smiled a little, hoping to put him at ease. "Do you want me to call someone for you?" she asked.

"That would be kind," he said. "But I'm afraid I don't know who to call."

"What do you mean?" asked Rose, concerned.

He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled rather sheepishly. "I am not quite sure who I am," he said.

Rose blinked at him. "You've lost your memory?" she asked.

"Appears so," he nodded.

"What's the last thing you remember?" asked Rose. She vaguely wondered if she should be more suspicious of his story but there was such honesty in his words and demeanour that she didn't believe he was trying to pull one over on her.

"Waking up," he said, and Rose managed not to roll her eyes because she knew it would be insensitive.

"Were you drugged, do you think?" asked Rose, peering at his face. She couldn't smell alcohol on his breath and his eyes appeared fine, but she was no expert.

He shook his head, curly hair moving gently with the motion. Rose watched the curls with slight envy, knowing her hair would never be able to do that.

"Have you got your wallet? Maybe check if you have some ID," suggested Rose.

"Oh, good idea..." he said, and then paused to look at her.

"Rose," she said, realising he was waiting for her name. "Rose Tyler."

"Nice to meet you, Rose Tyler," he smiled, and Rose felt her breath catch as the gesture lit up his already-handsome face.

He rifled through his pockets and Rose glanced away, wondering what was wrong with her. The poor man had lost his memories and she was sure he was in no mood to be ogled at.

"Aha!" she heard and turned to look at him.

Instead of a wallet, he was holding up a yo-yo. "I thought I had lost this," he said, grinning brightly. "I am quite good at tricks. Look, I'll show you." Rose just watched as he tried and failed spectacularly, and was left holding a tangled mess of string and red plastic in mere seconds. "Oh," he said, looking very disappointed. "Perhaps not, then."

Rose tried not to laugh, she really did, but the slight pout on his face made a chuckle slip out, and he looked up when he heard it. She thought he'd be offended and opened her mouth to apologise, but he grinned at her and stuffed the yo-yo back into his coat.

"My absolute failure to perform anything resembling a trick aside, I do not appear to have any identification on me," he said.

"Right," said Rose, noticing there was a hint of Scouse when he spoke. "Maybe you were mugged," she suggested. "Are you injured?"

He frowned a little, seemingly considering her words. "My head does hurt a bit," he said, touching a spot at the back of his skull.

"May I?" asked Rose, and he nodded. Smiling reassuringly, Rose leaned forward and ran her fingers along the spot he had pointed out, making him hiss lightly. "There's a lump here," she said, pulling away. "No blood though, but you may have a concussion." She looked at him in concern. "I think you should go to a hospital."

"No, no hospitals," he said, sounding very firm on that. "I hate those places."

"You have a head injury," said Rose, trying to be patient. "And you have amnesia. Trust me, we need to go to a…" Her words were cut off as he let out a cry of pain and clutched his head in his hands. "Are you alright?"

"I need to…" he muttered, stumbling to his feet but still clutching his head. "I need to find it."

He started to walk away and Rose shot off after him, grabbing his arm to stop him in his path.

"Oi, hang on," she said, noting how much strength he had despite his lean frame. He wasn't that much taller than her but she had to use almost all her strength to hold him in place. "Just stop for a moment, will you?"

"I have to…"

"Yeah, you have to find something, I got that part," said Rose. "But the only thing you'll find in your state is a concussion."

He stopped groaning in pain but there was still a deep grimace on his face as he slowly opened his eyes. "I can't remember what I need to find," he said, looking so very confused and lost that Rose felt her heart squeeze in her chest.

"Look, let's sit back down," said Rose, encouragingly. "We'll try and jog your memory, alright?" In all honesty, she just wanted to get him to a hospital but knew he would not go quietly.

Thankfully, the man let her lead him toward a park bench and the two sat down next to each other.

"I have to call you something, so let's stick with the classics and go with John Smith," said Rose.

'John' looked slightly amused, even as she could see the lingering traces of pain in his features. "I have the feeling this isn't the first time I have used that name," he said.

"You lose your memory often?" asked Rose, amused as well.

"I don't know, I can't remember," he said, and they both chuckled. "What about you, Rose? Do you make a habit of helping out amnesiac strangers who stumble out of the dark?"

"Yes, it's my part-time job, actually," joked Rose, before shrugging. "Look, I can't just...leave you here when you clearly need help. My conscience won't let me."

He smiled gently, as if she had said something brilliant. Rose ignored the flutter in her stomach and focused on the matter at hand. "And besides, I'm avoiding my own problems at the moment, so I might as well help with yours," she added, before he could get the wrong idea that she was a saint or something.

"What problems are you avoiding?" he asked.

Rose stared at him but then shrugged and pulled out the envelope from her coat.

"Hertford College," he said, looking at the emblem. "Oxford?"

"How'd you know that?" asked Rose. "Thought you didn't remember anything."

"I'm not sure," he frowned.

Rose gave him a searching look before shrugging. "Anyway, I interviewed with them last month for a place in autumn. The letter should be their response."

"But you haven't opened it yet," he pointed out.

"Yeah," she admitted and stuck it back into her coat. "It's stupid, I know," she added. "It's not like the response will change based on whether I open it or not. But enough about me. Let's see what we can do to help you."

"I'm not sure what we can do, Rose," he said. "My memories feel fleeting and they vanish before I can focus on them."

"Okay then," said Rose, at a loss as well. "What's something you can focus on at the moment? You said you had to find something?"

He nodded. "A scarf," he said. "I had to find a scarf." He looked at Rose and shook his head. "That is woefully unhelpful, isn't it?"

"Maybe it was yours," said Rose. "I mean, the evening is cold enough for it. Did you lose your scarf?" She felt slightly stupid as she said it.

He chuckled. "I don't think so," he said. "But I used to have a scarf. An absurd one." He rubbed his temple like warding off a headache. "And a recorder, and a cane, and a rainbow coat, and a celery, and a car and a brolly."

"All at the same time?" asked Rose, but John didn't look like he heard her.

"Where am I, exactly?" he asked, looking around at their surroundings.

"East Powell Park," said Rose. When he just looked at her blankly, she smiled a little. "South London."

"And what year is it?" he asked.

"2004," said Rose. "8th of January."

"It's Elvis' birthday," he said.

"And David Bowie's," nodded Rose, and then blinked at him. "How did you remember that?"

"I don't know," he said.

Rose pursed her lips. "It seems like you remember things, just not about yourself," she said, thoughtfully. "Are there any places in London that you remember?"

"Plenty, but the usual ones," he shrugged. "Buckingham Palace. The London Eye. Trafalgar Square…"

"Right, I get the picture," Rose interrupted before he could continue. "Look, I could call my boss. She's...she's a PI. She might be able to help."

John gave her a measuring look but before he could answer, they heard a shuffle in the shadows. Rose didn't pay much attention to it, but John's back went ramrod straight as he stared in that direction.

"What is it?" asked Rose, but he shushed her. She peered into the darkness but could not see anything for a brief moment, until a shadowy figure came into view.

"We have to go," he said, grabbing Rose's wrist and pulling her to her feet.

"What?" asked Rose, but he pulled her along as he started jogging in the direction opposite to where the figure was.

"John! Where are we going?" she asked, as he pulled her out of the park.

He didn't answer and just glanced around at the street they had emerged out on. "It's crowded enough," he said. "Let's try and blend in."

Rose wordlessly let him sweep her along into the crowd, his hand still clasped firmly around her wrist. "Are we being followed?" she asked, wondering if she should have left well enough alone if he had people chasing him.

John cast a discreet eye behind them before shaking his head. "I'm not sure," he said, and his pace slowed a little as they came out onto an even more crowded street.

Rose glanced around quickly and then shrugged off John's grip on her wrist before grabbing his hand. "Come on," she said, pulling him toward the bus stop where a bus was just pulling up. The two of them hopped onto the bus, without even checking where it was headed, and then collapsed into a seat side-by-side.

"There was a man back there," said John, by way of explanation. "He was holding a weapon."

"A weapon?" asked Rose, alarmed. "What, like a gun?"

"No, it was a discombobulator," he said. "Designed to target the hippocampus."

Rose stared at him, knowing she had never heard of anything like that before. "What's the hippocampus do?" asked Rose, only vaguely remembering that it was a part of the brain.

"It stores episodic memory which we can then access to remember certain things," he said.

"So, you're saying you were attacked with this discombobulator thingy which is why you've lost your memories?" asked Rose.

"That is what must have happened," he said. "Because you're right. The only things I cannot remember are specific things about myself. I can walk and talk just fine, and I can remember other things, but I don't have any memories of my own."

Rose nodded and they were both quiet for a few moments. Rose realised the bus had been moving for some time now, and would have put quite a distance between John's attacker and them by now. "Come on," she said, standing up. "Let's get down here."

The two of them disembarked at the next stop and Rose glanced around, trying to work out where they were.

"This looks familiar," said John, frowning deeply as he looked around.

"Does it?" asked Rose, as he started walking down one of the streets. She jogged after him to keep up, because he seemed to be walking at a much faster pace than before. "Slow down, will you?" she called after him but then he just stopped dead in his path. "What's wrong?" asked Rose, as she finally caught up.

"Coal Hill Secondary School," he said, and Rose followed his gaze to see a school at the end of the road.

"We're in Shoreditch," said Rose, reading the school's signboard. "Not a great part to be in after dark, though," she added, the silent streets unnerving her a bit.

John didn't respond and turned down a side street and continued his fast pace. Rose rolled her eyes but ran after him, vaguely noticing the street was called Totter's Lane.

"Here," he said, stopping in front of number 76.

"I.M. Foreman Scrap Merchant?" asked Rose, confused. "It's a junkyard." John was checking the doors and Rose was surprised when they swung open, unlocked. "Oi," she hissed, as he made his way inside. "You're trespassing." There was no response and Rose rolled her eyes. "I mean it!" she said, keeping her voice low. "I'm not getting arrested."

When there was still no response, Rose glanced around quickly before slipping inside the junkyard as well. She had full intention of going in there just to get John out before he got them both arrested, but she heard murmured voices further inside the junkyard. Immediately, Rose slowed her pace and took to the shadows, creeping forward slowly.

The junkyard was full of odds and ends which meant it was easy enough for Rose to remain hidden as she made her way along. She finally saw John but he had his hands raised and a man dressed equally as bizarrely as John was standing in front of him, pointing an odd silver baton at him.

The stranger had a shaved bald head with intricate black tattoos on his skull, pale skin, and he was wearing an olive green jumpsuit, black combat boots, with bizarre instruments and devices strapped to his belt. Rose didn't recognise most of the devices, with the exception of a compass which she had seen once before at Mr Robbins' house. She remembered that Jack had explained it was from the Jaggit Brocade.

Rose surmised the man was definitely not from Earth if he had that and all those other things in his possession.

The man was speaking but all Rose could hear were growls and grunts. To her even greater surprise however, John was responding in the same language. Rose observed the two for a moment, and realised that while John looked and sounded confused, the other man was noticeably furious.

Rose looked at the device in the man's hand and remembered what John had told her about the discombobulator. Based on how the conversation (if it could be called that) was going, it was likely the man was about to attack John again. Rose carefully crept along in the shadows, moving until she was behind the other man. She met John's gaze who didn't let on that he had seen her.

Grabbing a nearby cricket bat, Rose raised it and tiptoed behind the man. He must have sensed her coming because he turned around but Rose raised the bat and brought it crashing down on his hand that was holding the discombobulator.

He yelled out and dropped the weapon and Rose immediately kicked it away into the shadows.

"Run, John!" she said, throwing the bat down. John ignored her and ran straight over to the man and ripped out one of the devices strapped to his belt. The man screamed in anger but John threw the small glass ball onto the ground and it shattered before filling the entire space with a bright white light.

Rose had to close her eyes and she felt someone grab her hand. Before she could freak out, she heard John's voice in her ear. "Run!"

Without missing a beat, Rose followed John as he pulled her along behind her. She squinted her eyes as she tried to let them adjust, and it took a few seconds for her vision to return to normal. John came to a stop, just as Rose realised he had led them further into the junkyard as opposed to out of it.

"What are we doing?" asked Rose, her voice high with fear and stress. "We should be running away."

"No, let's go in here instead," said John, nodding toward a blue Police box that Rose hadn't noticed right away.

"A box?" asked Rose. "Have you lost your mind?"

"No, I've just got it back, as a matter of fact," he said, and drew out a key from his coat which he used to unlock the box. He turned around and smiled at Rose. "Come on."

Rose could hear the other man's footsteps growing closer, so she followed him into the box and slammed the doors shut behind her. Resting her back against the doors, Rose felt her jaw drop.

The inside of the box was a cavernous Gothic sitting room with a strange console in the centre of the room, surrounded by tall metal columns. The console had various buttons, switches, levers and gears on it as well as a main cylindrical rotor of sorts.

John was standing at the console and pressing buttons, murmuring to himself. Rose jumped a little as the rotor sprung to life and an odd wheezing sound filled the room. John turned to her and smiled a little.

"Alright, Rose," he said. "Where should I start?"

"Are we still in the box?" she blurted out.

"Yes," he answered.

"Dimensional relativity?" she asked, remembering Jack showing her the prison cell which was bigger on the inside than the outside.

"Correct," he said, looking very impressed.

Rose blinked a few times and then slid down to sit on the floor, her back still resting against the closed doors. "You're an alien?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, as he kept the distance between them which was a good thing because Rose was still feeling decidedly jumpy. "I'm the Doctor. I'm a Time Lord from a planet called Gallifrey, and this is my ship. She's called the TARDIS."

Rose stared at him with wide eyes. "You're the Doctor?" she asked.

He looked surprised. "You've heard of me?" he asked.

"Sort of, yeah," said Rose. "A friend of mine...you're her white whale." She was still a bit too shocked to engage her brain to mouth filter.

The Doctor crossed his arms and frowned. "And what does your friend do?" he asked.

"She's an archaeologist," said Rose. When he scoffed, she narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"

"They never get anything right," he said, shaking his head.

Rose got to her feet and crossed her arms irritably. "And you know, do you?" she asked.

"Of course," he said, like there was no doubt. "I'm a time traveller. I point and laugh at archaeologists."

Rose's eyes went wide and she ignored the insult to archaeologists as she made her way toward the Doctor. "This ship of yours travels in time?" she asked.

"It does," he said, looking very smug about it. "It's in the name, really. T-A-R-D-I-S. Time and Relative Dimension in Space."

"Why does it look like a Police box on the outside?" she asked.

"The chameleon circuit is broken," he said. "And I quite like it as it is now." He chuckled before surveying her thoughtfully. "You are taking this surprisingly well, Rose."

"You're not the first alien I have met," she said. "Or the first time traveller," she added, tilting her chin up stubbornly.

His eyebrows shot up. "Strange, you do not appear to be lying," he said. "You're too young to be recruited by UNIT, at least."

"What's UNIT?" asked Rose, confused.

"That answers that," he said. There was a beeping noise from the console and he turned away to check one of the screens. "Aha! Found you."

"Found who?" asked Rose, since the language on the screen was a whole lot of interlocking circles, hexagons and lines.

"Troiton," said the Doctor. "The man who attacked me back there."

"Is he from the Jaggit Brocade?" asked Rose.

The Doctor frowned. "No, why would you think that?" he asked.

"The compass on his belt," she said, feeling a bit stupid.

His expression cleared and he gave her a slightly impressed look. "Well-observed," he said. "Troiton is a scavenger," he explained. "A scavenger with access to time travel, which is why he has that compass. Did you recognise any of the other devices he had?" When Rose shook her head, his smile widened. "It's all mismatched technology from all over time and space that he has scavenged in his travels."

"What does he want?" asked Rose. "Why did he attack you?"

"He attempted to steal the TARDIS from me," said the Doctor, looking highly irritated about it. "He attacked me with that discombobulator, which would have knocked most people out immediately. Except, I'm a Time Lord so I had some time before the effects hit me, which is why I landed on Earth. Near that park where I met you, as a matter of fact."

"But then how did your ship end up in Shoreditch?" asked Rose.

The Doctor was pressing some of the buttons on the console and didn't answer immediately. "Troiton had locked onto the TARDIS and I knew it would only be a matter of time before he followed me to Earth," he said. "So as soon as I landed, I sent the TARDIS away to a safe location, but the discombobulator's effect kicked in and knocked me out. When I woke up, I couldn't remember a thing." He smiled at Rose, and she ignored that it still made her stomach flutter to see him smile like that. "The rest you know."

Rose nodded and glanced away as there was a thud and the rotor came to a stop. "Have we...landed?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, rummaging through his coat pockets before pulling out a silver pen of sorts with a circle at the end and a red bullet-shaped crystal at the centre of the circle. He pointed the device at the screen and nodded in satisfaction before turning to Rose. "Sonic screwdriver," he explained, before putting it back in his coat.

"What did you do?" asked Rose.

The Doctor smiled at her mischievously. "Remember that little glass ball that I shattered back there?" he asked. At Rose's nod, his grin grew wider. "Troiton was using that to cloak himself. I just sent his location to one of the planets where he is wanted. He should be getting arrested…" he said, and checked his pocket watch. "Right about now."

As if on cue, there was a chirp from the console and the Doctor shot her a smug smile.

"You think you're so impressive," said Rose, amused despite herself.

"I am so impressive," he said, and grinned as he walked past Rose and opened the doors of the TARDIS. Rose followed behind him cautiously and was surprised to see they were back in the park where she had first met him. The park was still empty, and Rose looked at the Doctor in confusion.

"Is he out there?" she asked. "Troiton, I mean?"

"Just watch," he said.

Rose blinked in confusion, but a moment later, the air in front of them shimmered and two people dressed in full armour appeared seemingly out of thin air. Rose couldn't see anything about what they looked like, except they appeared to be humanoid. They clicked their heels and bowed to the Doctor before one of them drew out a remote control from their armour and pressed a button.

To Rose's surprise, Troiton appeared out of thin air again. When he saw the two armour-clad figures, his face went pale.

"No," he said, and Rose was too caught up in the scene to realise she had understood what he was saying. "No! You can't take me."

"Troiton Belleur," said one of the armour-clad figures, the voice sounding mechanic. "You are charged under provisions 18.09, 20.03 and 25.12 of the Glassheart Collective's Criminal Code. You will now be brought before the Supreme Leader."

Troiton noticed the Doctor and glared fiercely at him and Rose, as the armour-clad figures placed a hand on each of his shoulders before all three of them vanished. Rose realised her mouth had fallen open and she closed it hastily.

"It's safe for us to go out there now," said the Doctor, and Rose nodded as she walked out, still a bit too overwhelmed at what she had seen. The Doctor closed the doors and leaned against the side of the TARDIS, letting her gather her thoughts.

"I understood him," she said. "I couldn't...before."

"It's the TARDIS," he said. "Translates any and all languages."

"Is this…" asked Rose, and then cleared her throat before meeting the Doctor's gaze. "Is this what you do?" she asked. "Hunt down criminals all over time and space?"

"No," he chuckled. "But if I happen to run into a criminal, I like to hand them over to the proper authorities." He smiled at Rose. "Mostly I just like to travel and see if adventure will find me."

Rose felt a surge of envy and longing when he said it, and it must have shown on her face because the Doctor's smile grew wider.

"You could come with me," he said, nodding toward the TARDIS. "If you wanted." Rose's eyes went wide and he chuckled. "You saved my life back there in that junkyard and helped me when you had no reason to, right here in this park. The very least I could do is thank you for doing that."

It was tempting, so tempting. A slightly cold breeze blew by as the Doctor waited for her answer and Rose shivered and drew her coat tighter around herself. As she did, she felt the thick envelope against her side, and Rose felt like she had been doused with cold water.

"I can't," she said, her voice full of regret. She pulled out the envelope and shrugged sheepishly.

The Doctor's face had initially fallen but he smiled ruefully when he saw the envelope. "Are you going to open it?" he asked.

"I should, shouldn't I?" she asked, chuckling as well.

The Doctor gave her an encouraging grin and Rose carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. Taking a deep breath, she unfolded the letter and started to read silently.

_Dear Miss Tyler,_

_I am pleased, on behalf of Hertford College, to offer you a place for admission in October 2004 to read Archaeology and Anthropology, a 3-year course. This offer is conditional upon your obtaining the following grades in your forthcoming examinations:_

_A., A., A._

_Could I please ask you to let me know as soon as possible, preferably within the next 21 days if you intend to…_

Rose stopped reading and looked up at the Doctor, who had already unlocked the TARDIS and was smiling.

"Congratulations, Rose," he said, and stepped inside the TARDIS.

Rose just beamed brightly, not caring how he'd deduced she'd received an offer of acceptance from Oxford. "Thank you, Doctor," she said. "Will I ever see you again?" she asked, before he could close the doors.

He paused and looked at her contemplatively. "I hope so," he said, and his sincere tone made Rose's cheeks turn pink.

"Just so you know," she said, pointing toward him warningly as she fought off her embarrassment. "I may be an archaeologist by the time we meet again."

He threw his head back and laughed loudly. "I look forward to it," he said. "Thank you, Rose Tyler," he added with a soft smile. "It was very nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too, Doctor," said Rose, honestly. "I hope we see each other again."

With matching bright grins, the Doctor and Rose parted ways as the Doctor vanished with the TARDIS and Rose returned home.

It would be some time before they would see each other again, but they were already looking forward to their next meeting.


	6. The Crimson Spell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for brief descriptions of torture in this chapter.

The next few months after meeting the Doctor went by in a flash for Rose. Now that she had a conditional offer to Oxford, she focused all her attention on her A-levels so she could get the three As she needed. Without them, the offer was meaningless.

Jackie was finally on board after seeing the conditional offer, and had been very encouraging, as well as bragging about Rose to anyone who would listen. It made Rose’s life slightly easier, knowing she had her mother on her side.

Rose’s eighteenth birthday came and went, but she was too busy with work and studies to really have a celebration. She had been sneaking into bars and clubs since she was fifteen so it was hardly a novelty being able to do that legally now. Shareen had dropped out of school, but she came to visit at the flat with a six-pack of cider so they could celebrate and Rose was grateful. She and Shareen had drifted apart, as was bound to happen, but it was nice to catch up.

“You look good,” Shareen had said. “Love the hair.”

Rose had just smiled and accepted the compliment. She had stopped dyeing her hair since the previous summer and grown out her honey blonde hair. The length was still more or less the same (a few inches below her shoulders) and she didn’t miss the hours of work to dye and maintain it anymore. Her mum wasn’t best pleased, but hadn’t argued.

Shareen had started working at Henrik’s in town and she sounded like she was happy with the job. Rose was still at work with her own job as well, and it had been an interesting conversation to have with River when she told her about meeting the Doctor. River had asked a thousand questions, taking detailed notes in her journal.

It was when Rose had said the Doctor had asked her to come with him, that River had stopped and stared at Rose.

“You refused him?” she’d asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah,” Rose had answered. “What?” she’d asked when River had just gaped at her.

“N-nothing,” River had stammered out and picked up her pen again. “Continue.”

As June rolled around, Rose had intensive study sessions with River any time they didn’t have a customer, and Rose sat her A-levels at the end of June. She had the whole of July to worry about her results, but at Jackie’s behest, she had started packing her things, deciding what to take and what she would need to leave behind. 

She also took stock of her savings, and frowned when she realised that while government assistance would cover her tuition fees for all three years, her savings would be enough for her room, board and living expenses for only the first two years. Oxford did not allow undergraduate students to be employed, as the idea was for them to focus on their studies. Rose had initially planned on taking a part-time job but that was no longer an option and she wasn’t sure what she would do. River had offered to give her an interest-free loan, but Rose had refused since River had already done too much for her and Rose had been raised to not accept charity from anyone. There was time until she had to worry, but Rose knew she would have to come up with a plan sooner or later.

As August came around, Rose buried her anxiety which threatened to overwhelm her at any given moment, and tried to focus on anything else but the pending results. The day before the results were due, Rose made her way to work in the morning, looking pale as a ghost.

“Blimey, have you slept at all?” asked River, when she saw her.

“What is sleep?” asked Rose, giving her a sardonic smile. “Tea?”

“You sit down. I’ll make the tea,” said River.

Rose shrugged and sat down, too tired to argue. The door to the shop opened and she was surprised when Jack walked in beaming, handsome as always.

“Morning, Rose,” he greeted, and his eyebrows shot up when he saw her. “Late night?”

“Results are due tomorrow,” she said by way of explanation, as she stood up to hug him.

He hugged her back and patted her head as he pulled away. “You’ll do fine, kiddo,” he said. “Where’s River?”

“Back here,” called out River from the backroom. “You want a cuppa too, Jack?”

“Yes, please, gorgeous,” he called back, as he sat down next to Rose. 

“What brings you here today, Jack?” asked Rose, trying to remember if River had mentioned anything about going away.

“I have a case,” he said, raising his voice slightly, presumably so River could hear him as well.

“A case for us?” asked River, as she walked out with the tea tray. She shooed away Rose’s hands and started pouring the tea herself.

“Yeah,” he said. “I have my hands full at the moment so I thought I’d pass this one along to you two.”

“I’m all ears,” said River, passing a cup each to Rose and Jack before pouring one for herself.

Jack took a sip of his tea before reaching into his coat and pulling out a bundle of documents. “Four missing persons,” he said, laying out four photographs onto River’s desk. “Poppy Thomas, Leila Dorian, Tara Gore and Uma Patrick. Four women, all in their very early twenties. All went missing over the past two months from the Ashmolean Museum.”

“Employees?” asked River, examining the photographs.

“Yes,” said Jack. “Poppy and Uma were volunteers; they worked at the welcome desk. Leila worked in the gift shop and Tara worked in the Western Art Department. They were last seen at work and then never seen since.”

“Are the police involved?” asked Rose.

“Of course,” said Jack. “I mean, their families notified the police right away and the police are doing what they do, but…”

“But they don’t know what we know,” finished River, and Jack inclined his head in agreement. “So what do we know about this one?”

“I haven’t been able to find a connection between them, apart from the fact that they are in the same age range and worked at the museum,” shrugged Jack. “The police have no leads and there is nothing to suggest that any of these women disappeared of their own volition.”

“Even if there’s foul play, it does not strictly make it something we would look into,” said River.

“I thought you might say that,” said Jack. “There is something that makes this whole thing bizarre enough that I think we need to look into.”

“What’s that?” asked Rose.

“In the days leading up to their disappearance, all women exhibited signs of insomnia,” said Jack.

“It’s thin, Jack,” said River. “They could have been drugged and targeted prior to being taken.”

“Leila and Tara both went to their respective physician when they couldn’t sleep. Their doctors ran blood tests and neither of them had anything in their system,” said Jack, pulling out the reports from the stack he’d set down.

Rose had to admit that was weird enough. As did River, it seemed, when she nodded. “Alright,” said River. “Leave it with us.”

“Thank you,” grinned Jack, and placed a business card on River’s desk. “My contact at the Ashmolean is Sarah Essa. She’s used to the bizarre, to an extent, mind you.” He finished his tea and stood up. “Keep the file,” he added. “I’ll see you both soon.”

Rose and River hugged him goodbye, and with a stern look at Rose to not stress so much, Jack took his leave.

River checked her watch and then typed something on her computer. “Maybe call your mum to let her know we’ll be in Oxford today. We might need to stay overnight,” River told her.

“What time is the train from Paddington?” asked Rose, noting it was already 9 in the morning.

“We can try and make the one at 10.15,” said River.

“I’ll pop home quickly and grab a bag then,” said Rose, already standing up.

“Alright, see you in a bit,” nodded River, already booking tickets.

Rose went home and found the flat empty. She quickly packed an overnight bag and left a note for Jackie, explaining she was travelling to Oxford with River for work. Despite her anxiety about the exam results, Rose was looking forward to going on the trip, especially since she hadn’t had the chance to go to the Ashmolean Museum yet.

River called a cab to take them to Paddington, and they made it in time for the train to Oxford. It was just under an hour of travel before they reached Oxford, followed by a ten minute walk to the Ashmolean Museum of Archaeology and Art. 

Sarah Essa, Jack’s contact, met them at the entrance of the museum. She appeared to be in her early thirties, and was dressed neatly in a grey pantsuit with a matching hijab. 

“Welcome to Oxford, Professor Song,” said Sarah, shaking River’s hand. “I’m Sara Essa. I’m a Curator for the Ancient Egypt and Sudan Exhibits in the Antiquities Department.”

“Very nice to meet you. Please call me River,” smiled River. “This is Rose Tyler. She assists me in my work.”

“How do you do, Rose?” asked Sarah, as she offered her hand.

“Very well, thank you,” said Rose, shaking her hand. “How about you?”

“I wish I could say the same,” chuckled Sarah. “Come on through, I have booked a study room for the two of you.” Sarah led them to a study room on the first floor and ushered them in before closing the door. “I’m sorry I can’t offer much more than this, but I hope this will suffice.”

“It’s perfect,” said River, nodding at the clean, well-maintained study room with a large desk, four chairs, and two white boards. “We would like to speak to you now, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” said Sarah, as they all took a seat. “I am not sure how helpful I can be, but I’ll do my best.”

Rose took out the file that Jack had given them and handed it to River, before sitting down with her notebook, ready to take notes.

“Did you know the women who disappeared?” asked River.

“Only Tara, I’m afraid, and that too, in passing,” said Sarah. “The museum has a lot of employees,” she added, by way of explanation. “Between the various academics, volunteers, retail and hospitality employees, there are hundreds of us with a fairly consistent turnover rate, especially when it comes to volunteers.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know if any of them had anything in common?” asked River.

“I’m sorry, I don’t,” said Sarah, and then pulled out a blackberry. “When Jack initially got in touch, I made a list of people closest to each of them if you would prefer to speak to them instead. I don’t anticipate being helpful otherwise.”

River took the offered blackberry and handed it to Rose, who began copying down the names on the list quickly. “No, this helps far more than you’d think, Sarah,” she said, truthfully. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” said Sarah. “I’ll-”

There was a knock on the study room door and Sarah frowned. “Yes?” she asked.

The door opened and a young man in his twenties dressed in black slacks, white shirt and black cardigan, stood in the doorway.

“Pardon me for interrupting Dr Essa,” he said, nervousness pouring off him in waves. “Dr Enwerda is looking for you.”

Sarah sighed. “Very well, thank you, Wyatt,” she said, and stood up. “My apologies, River, Rose. Dr Enwerda is leaving on a research trip today, so I need to see what he needs. In fact,” she paused and looked at Wyatt. “Wyatt, I’ll leave you to assist our guests.”

“A-assist?” asked Wyatt, looking even more nervous.

“Yes,” said Sarah. “They have been requested to investigate the disappearance of our colleagues.”

Wyatt’s eyes went wide as he looked over at them. He was a thin young man, with untidy curly ash blond hair and skittering brown eyes behind thick glasses. He nodded, and Sarah took her leave, assuring that Wyatt would be able to assist as needed.

“Alright,” said River. “Let’s use Sarah’s list and work our way through, shall we?”

Rose nodded, and River sent Wyatt to fetch each of the people on the list. Most people were the same as Sarah. They knew the victims but just in passing. They did have more luck with some of the others, but they didn’t glean any further information than what they had previously known.

One of Leila’s colleagues sobbed the whole way through her interview. “She was just so nice,” sobbed Caroline. “Even when she was suffering from insomnia, she bore through it with a smile. She didn’t complain once.”

At the end of the day, Rose looked over her notes.

All four victims worked at the museum, albeit in different places.

All of them were in their early twenties.

All of them were last seen at the museum and never seen again.

All of them complained of insomnia in the days leading up to their disappearance.

“That is the only difference I can see,” said Rose.

River, who was stretching her arms, glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

“Leila and Tara suffered from insomnia for three days before they disappeared, Uma for two days and Poppy only lasted one day,” said Rose.

“It’s the order they disappeared in as well,” said River. “Leila was the first to disappear, then Tara, then Uma and then Poppy.”

“Let’s say they were drugged then,” said Rose. “Do you think the dose got stronger?” She consulted her notes again. “Leila’s friend - Caroline, she said that Leila’s insomnia got worse over the course of three days. But Poppy’s colleague said she looked terrible after only a day.”

“It’s possible,” conceded River.

“But I guess no drugs were found in their system,” frowned Rose.

“No drugs that a physician would find in a standard blood test,” corrected River.

There was a knock on the door as Wyatt entered. “Is there anything else you need from me?” he asked. “The museum will be closing in an hour.”

“No, thank you, Wyatt,” smiled River. “Actually, why don’t you give Rose a hand with tidying up? I’ll just pop out and speak to Sarah before we retire for the night.”

“Sure, of course,” said Wyatt. Rose had discovered that while nervous and not very confident, Wyatt had been useful throughout the day, tracking down everyone on Sarah’s list and even bringing lunch for her and River so they didn’t have to stop working. “Did you have any luck?” he asked, now.

Rose shook her head. “Hard to say,” she said, as she carefully rearranged Jack’s file. She paused and glanced at Wyatt. “Did you know them?”

“Yeah, I mean, hard not to,” he said.

“Really?” asked Rose. “Sarah mentioned there are too many people for everyone to keep track.”

Wyatt looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, but he shook his head instead. “Yeah, that’s true for most staff. But assistants like me? We are sent to fetch and carry all day, so you get used to seeing everyone at some point,” he said.

Rose wondered if she was imagining the slightly bitter note in his voice. “Do all assistants work all over the museum?” she asked.

“Most of them do,” he said. “My primary duties are to assist Dr Enwerda. He’s the curator for the Greece and Cyprus Exhibit in the Antiquities Department.”

“Are you a student at the university?” she asked.

“No,” he said, and then smiled wryly. “I, uh, I couldn’t get in.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Rose.

“It’s fine,” he shrugged. “My family are all Oxford alumni, though, so my father got me this job here. What about you? Are you old enough to attend university yet?”

Rose nodded. “I have a conditional offer for October,” she said, hoping she kept her tone casual and not like she was rubbing salt in his wounds.

“That’s great,” said Wyatt, with a smile. “What are you studying?”

“Archaeology and Anthropology at Hertford,” she said. “But,” she added. “I still haven’t received my A-level results so it might all be for nothing.”

“The A-levels are the easy part,” he said. “Trust me, you have already done the difficult part.”

“I hope so,” said Rose.

He smiled at her and waved as he took his leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Rose. I assume you and Professor Song will be back in the morning?”

“Yeah, we’re staying at the Magnolia Hotel in town,” she said.

“Great, I’ll see you soon,” he said. “Good night, Rose.”

“Good night, Wyatt,” smiled Rose, as he left. She continued packing up and when River returned, they went to the hotel for the night. River was already yawning as they took the lift to their room after a quick supper, but Rose felt wide awake despite being tired.

“Don’t stay up too long,” River warned her as she climbed into one of the beds. “You need sleep.”

“I know,” said Rose. “I’m tired so I’ll turn in soon as well.”

River nodded and drifted off to sleep. Rose changed into her pyjamas but her brain was too wired to go to sleep, even as midnight rolled around. She contemplated going for a walk, but was surprised when the phone in the room rang. She rushed to answer it before River could wake up.

“Hello?” she whispered.

“My sincere apologies for disturbing you, madam,” came the polite voice from the other end. “This is the front desk and we have a visitor here who insists there is an emergency.”

“Can you put them on, please?” requested Rose.

“Certainly.”

There was a brief pause before Rose heard another voice. “Rose, hi, sorry to call you so late.”

“Wyatt?” recognised Rose.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry I didn’t get a chance to ask for your number but there’s something you should know about those women that disappeared.”

“What is it?” asked Rose.

“I-can you come meet me in the lobby? I’d rather not say over the phone,” he said.

“Yeah, I’ll be right down,” said Rose.

“Thank you,” he said, relieved. “I’ll wait by the dining room.”

Rose hummed in agreement and hung up the phone. She thought about waking River, but knew she was only just going downstairs. Grabbing a hoodie and slipping into her trainers, Rose took the lift down. The hotel was quiet with the exception of the front desk where Rose saw the employee who had presumably called her. He appeared to be busy on another call, so Rose slipped past and went toward the dining room.

Wyatt was standing in front of the closed dining room, similarly dressed in track pants and a hoodie, hands buried in his pockets. “Hi, Rose,” he said, looking relieved when he saw her.

“Hi, Wyatt,” she said. “What did you want to tell me?”

“Where’s River?” he asked.

“She’s asleep, I didn’t want to wake her,” said Rose. “I’ll pass along anything you tell me,” she added, in case he was hesitant about telling her.

“I know,” he said, and then with lightning quick reflexes pulled out his hand from his pocket and opened his fist before blowing lightly on it. A powder of some sort flew right into Rose’s face and before she could say anything, she felt blackness claim her.

~

When Rose awoke, it was to the sound of light tapping. She blinked for a few moments and realised she couldn’t move. Slowly, the room swam into focus and she was sure she was back in the Ashmolean Museum. The clock on the wall showed it was just before 5 am, so she had been here all night. It was an office of some sort and the plaque on the desk said Dr T. Enwerda. The person sitting at the desk, however, was Wyatt as he tapped his fingers on the desk.

Rose realised she was sitting on a chair, with her wrists bound to the chair’s arms with ropes, and a piece of duct tape over her mouth.

“You’re awake,” said Wyatt, perking up a little. “The dose must have been very strong. You were only supposed to be out for an hour or two but you have been asleep for almost 4 hours. Any disorientation?”

Rose glared at him and struggled with her bonds. 

“Don’t do that,” he said. “You’ll only hurt yourself.”

Rose paid him no mind and tried her best to get free, but the ropes had been tied really well and there wasn’t even an inch of give. She stopped and glared at Wyatt again, who had finally stopped tapping his fingers.

“For what it’s worth,” he said, as he stood up. “It wasn’t my idea to do this. Rose, I’m-”

“That is enough,” came a sharp voice from behind her and Rose’s eyes went wide when she recognised it. Caroline walked over and glared at Rose, her face harsh without any trace of the tears she’d shed that afternoon. “Watch the door.”

Wyatt narrowed his eyes at Caroline but obeyed. Caroline rolled her eyes and set a satchel down on Dr Enwerda’s desk before smirking at Rose.

“They just get younger and younger,” she said. 

Rose glared at her and tugged at her bonds again. “Don’t try it, sweetheart,” said Caroline, opening the satchel and starting to pull out a few things. The office was only lit by two desk lamps so Rose didn’t immediately see what the objects were.

“Now,” said Caroline as she pulled on a pair of gloves and turned back to face Rose again. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

Rose’s eyes went wide as she saw the curved dagger in her hand. _Kopis_ , her brain informed her unhelpfully. Ancient Greek knife with a forward curving blade. Judging by the smaller size rather than the sword-like length, she knew it would be from a later era. 4th century BC, unless she was mistaken. Apart from its many uses as a weapon in battle, it was also used in ritual sacrifice. Rose looked at the rest of the objects on the desk and noticed a small bowl as well as an empty oil lamp from the same era. There were other odds and ends but she couldn’t see what they were.

“This will pinch a bit,” said Caroline, approaching her.

Rose frantically shook her head but Caroline held the knife to her throat and Rose immediately stopped moving.

“Good girl,” cooed Caroline, carefully flicking aside Rose’s hair away from her neck. “I don’t intend to kill you. I just want to gather some blood. But if you struggle, then my hand might slip.” She pressed the knife against the skin of Rose’s neck to drive in her point.

Rose took a breath and nodded slowly to indicate she understood. Caroline nodded and deliberately shifted the blade a few inches to the left and made a thin, long cut.

Rose couldn’t help but scream but it was muffled behind the duct tape. Caroline grabbed the bowl and held it against the cut to collect the blood. Without pausing, she made a similar cut on Rose’s neck on the other side and collected the blood. Rose realised that either Wyatt or Caroline had removed her hoodie before tying her up, so she was only wearing her track pants and a tank top. 

Caroline made a long cut on each of Rose’s forearms, not even flinching as Rose screamed. She made the final cuts on each of Rose’s palms and then set the knife and the bowl down on the desk again. Rose slumped in her seat, wincing from the pain. None of the cuts were bleeding profusely so she knew Caroline must have only made shallow cuts but they still hurt.

“Water,” said Rose, behind her gag. “Please.”

Caroline paid her no mind as she carefully pulled off the bloodied gloves and threw them back in the satchel before pulling out a vial of what looked like more blood and mixed it with Rose’s blood. Wyatt, however, came over and poured a glass of water from a jug on the desk.

“Don’t scream,” he told her, before pulling off the duct tape gently.

Rose kept silent as he held the glass of water to her lips. Wyatt nodded at her, and Rose slowly drank the water, feeling slightly better.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, keeping her voice low as she finished drinking.

Wyatt flinched and looked at Caroline, who chuckled. “Back to the door, Wyatt,” ordered Caroline, before looking at Rose.

“Have you heard of the Greek Magical Papyri?” she asked.

Rose’s brow furrowed. “T-the book of spells?” she asked.

“Well done, ten points to the chav,” grinned Caroline nastily. 

Rose glanced at the things on the desk before looking at Caroline. “You’re doing a spell?” she asked, incredulously.

“Of course I am,” said Caroline. Rose just stared at her in disbelief and Caroline chuckled. “I suppose you think it’s all primitive hocus pocus. Well, you’re not completely wrong.”

Caroline leaned against the desk and crossed her arms. “The Greek Magical Papyri is one of the most well-known spellbooks we have in existence today. It’s been deciphered and documented for hundreds of years now. Many people have attempted the many spells in there, with no apparent success,” she explained, before smirking at Rose. “But, they didn’t have the advantages that I did.”

“Like what?” asked Rose, aghast.

“The equipment for one,” said Caroline and picked up the knife which made Rose flinch. “These are authenticated artefacts I am using. The real deal, the ones used back in the day. Then, of course, I have been modifying the spells to see what works.”

Rose just continued to gape at her and Caroline went back to the desk. She picked up three cotton wicks and dipped them in the bowl of mixed blood, carefully squeezing out the excess blood. 

“What is it all for?” asked Rose.

“Well, it’s strictly academic for me,” said Caroline as she picked up a small vial of brown liquid. “Running low on myrrh oil,” she muttered to herself. “Wyatt, on the other hand…” Caroline grinned at him over her shoulder and dipped a thin paint brush into the vial of myrrh oil before carefully starting to write on the wicks. “It’s a love spell for his benefit.”

Rose felt her entire being grow cold. “A love spell?” she asked.

“Yes, most of the spells in the Greek Magical Papyri are love spells,” said Caroline, still writing something on the wicks, dipping the brush into the vial of myrrh oil frequently to replenish it. “I’ve tried a few of them, but this is the first one to work.” She paused and smirked at Rose. “It’s a spell to invoke the seven gods - Iao, Adonai, Sabaoth, Pagoure, Iaeo, Marmorouth and Michael, in order to bind someone in love. The names of those gods are to be written on the wicks with myrrh and then the lamp is to be lit with seeds of wormwood on top.”

“What about the blood?” asked Rose.

“Yours and Wyatt’s mixed together,” said Caroline. “It’s not in the book. That’s one of my own discoveries.”

“I-is that what you did with the others?” asked Rose, forcing herself to focus.

“More or less, though I have been refining the formula as you deduced quite correctly,” said Caroline. Rose’s brow furrowed as she said that. She was sure she and River had been alone when they had discussed that and Caroline chuckled. “I had Wyatt plant a little device in the study room,” she explained. “I wanted to know what everyone knew so far.”

“What did you do with them?” asked Rose, her voice growing hard with anger. “Did you torture them too? Take their blood to do your sick experiment?”

“Hardly,” said Caroline. “You see, the effect of the spell is supposed to be that the person bound will suffer from lack of sleep until they are touched by the person they are bound to. Even a simple handshake will suffice.” Rose ignored the sick feeling in her stomach and forced herself to pay attention. “Leila was the first. I had tried the spell before but it hadn’t worked. So I used some of her DNA, her hair to be precise, in the ritual.” Caroline paused as she threaded the wick through the oil lamp. “It worked, to an extent. She got the insomnia though it was mild to begin with. But when Wyatt over there touched her, instead of her heart skipping a beat, it skipped several. All of them, to be exact.”

“She’s dead?” asked Rose, aghast. “She was your friend!”

“She was a brat,” shrugged Caroline, as she poured olive oil into the lamp. “It’s a lucky thing the museum has all those trolleys with fully closing covers for transporting artefacts. Transporting bodies would be no easy feat otherwise.” She used wet wipes to carefully start cleaning her hands. “Tara was next. I used saliva this time, from a can of drink she’d left around. It had almost the same effect as Leila. With Poppy and Uma, I got creative. Used blood, mixed in Wyatt’s DNA, and it almost worked with Poppy.”

“How?” asked Rose.

“When Wyatt touched her, it was like she had fallen under his spell,” said Caroline, sighing dreamily, as she placed the lamp on the edge of the desk and placed the wormwood seeds on top. “She lasted a whole day before her heart gave out.”

“And me?” asked Rose, the feeling of dread was almost overwhelming now. “What did you do differently with me?”

Caroline just smirked at her and pulled out a lighter. “I suppose you’ll find out,” she said. She came over to Rose and placed the duct tape back over her mouth, before clicking the lighter on and lighting the lamp. Rose screamed but it went unheard as the lamp started burning, slowly but surely. The seeds on top began warming, and Rose started feeling a flush of heat crawling up her spine. She had to struggle, she had to do something, because otherwise she was going to become a puppet and then die.

“Is it working?” she heard Wyatt ask, and it was as if his voice was a magnet drawing her toward him.

“I expect so. Get over here, you need to recite the words to complete the ritual,” said Caroline. “Any-”

Her words were cut off by a knock on the door. Rose blinked as the momentary bit of distraction dissipated some of the haze in her mind for a split second. Caroline was too quick though and was upon her in a blink, with the knife pressed to Rose’s neck before Rose could scream.

“Wyatt!” hissed Caroline. “Deal with it.”

Wyatt nodded and opened the door just a crack to slip out. Rose knew even if she had been able to move, the chair she was in was not in direct line of sight of the doorway.

She still had to alert whoever was on the other side, but her eyes went wide when she heard Wyatt speak.

“Professor Song, what are you doing here so early?” he asked.

“Good morning, Wyatt,” said River. “You haven’t seen Rose, have you?”

“No, not since yesterday. Why?” asked Wyatt.

“She didn’t sleep in her bed last night,” said River, and even in her state Rose could hear the worry in her tone. “She left her phone and wallet in the hotel room…”

It was as if every worry-laden word from River’s mouth was waking Rose up more and more. She could see Caroline was staring at the closed door, still holding that knife to her neck. The lamp was burning away at the edge of the desk and Rose assessed the distance between her and the lamp.

Carefully planting her feet onto the ground, Rose took a deep breath. She had one shot at this and she had to do it now since she could hear that River was about to leave. Turning her body slightly Rose nudged Caroline’s hand away from her neck and lunged forward, knocking the lamp off the desk with her elbow. It fell onto the carpeted floors and the oil spilled out, the flame starting to grow. Rose had felt the knife sink into her shoulder when she’d lunged but she ignored the pain. Caroline screamed when she saw the fire, too shocked to stay silent. 

There was a ringing in Rose’s ears so she couldn’t hear River, but the next moment the door was thrown open as an unconscious Wyatt tumbled through. River was standing over him with an alien weapon of some sorts. Rose looked at her, and without hesitation, River took a single shot at Caroline, who fell to the floor unconscious. River slammed the door shut behind her and rushed inside and grabbed the jug of water from the desk. She threw the entire jug on the fire, dousing the flames. Rose swayed on her feet, about ready to collapse, but River caught her in a strong grip.

“I’ve got you, Rose,” she said, setting the chair down. “Hang on a moment, sweetie, I’ll cut you loose.” Rose nodded and felt River cut the ropes binding her wrist. Rose fell forward into River’s arms as soon as she was loose and River hugged her tightly. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” she kept murmuring as she stroked her back.

She slowly let her go and Rose could see tears in her eyes. “I’m fine, River,” said Rose, her voice a bit hoarse.

“You’re pretty fucking far from it,” said River, as she pulled out her phone, still keeping an arm around Rose. “Jack! You need to get here. Now!” It seemed like she would hang up, but then she glanced at Rose and added. “And bring a medic!”

~

It took slightly over 2 hours for Jack to arrive. River had assessed Rose’s wounds in that time, and gotten the whole story. Wyatt and Caroline were both unconscious, courtesy of River’s tranquiliser gun. When Rose asked how River got the gun, she told her it was on one of her expeditions.

“How long will they stay out?” asked Rose.

River checked her watch and then fired a shot into each of their torsos. “Another two hours now,” she said.

There was a knock on the door and River pulled Rose behind her before opening the door. She relaxed slightly when Jack entered, followed by two women and a man.

Jack took one look at Rose and his smile dropped into a deep grimace. “Owen!” he barked.

The man, Owen, rolled his eyes but walked over to Rose. “Hi, there, I’m Dr Owen Harper,” he said. 

“I’m Rose,” she said.

“Hello, Rose,” he said. “Can I take a look at your injuries?”

Rose nodded as Owen helped her into a chair and pulled up a chair to sit opposite her before opening his doctor’s bag. She could vaguely hear River telling Jack what had happened, and Rose was grateful she wouldn’t need to repeat the story. She could see the two women with Jack listening with rapt attention, and the Japanese woman had started taking notes at some point.

“I’m going to clean these wounds,” said Owen. “And then with a bit of dermal regeneration, you won’t even have a scar when I’m done, I promise.”

“Thanks,” nodded Rose.

“Ancient Greek Love Spells?” asked the other woman with Jack, with the dark curly hair. “You can’t be serious!”

“Hey, don’t knock it, Susie,” said Jack as he walked over and picked up the knife that Caroline had left on the desk. He frowned and held it out to River, who examined it as well before her eyebrows shot up. “Is that what I think it is?” he asked River.

“Let’s find out,” said River, and Rose exclaimed in shock when she placed it on the ground and stomped as hard as she could on it.

The rusted metal of the ancient knife crumbled away and as River picked it back up again, Rose was shocked when she saw...circuitry.

“Is it alien?” asked Rose, hardly paying attention to Owen healing her wounds.

“Yes and no,” said River, still examining it carefully. “It’s an artefact from ancient Greece. 4th century BC, if I had to guess. But it’s not of earthly origins.”

“Are you saying the aliens left it on Earth in 4th century BC?” asked the Japanese woman, whom Jack had called Tosh at some point. “What is it exactly?”

“Crudely speaking, it is a device to control someone,” said River. “It collects the biodata of its victims but it then needs to be inputted into an appropriate control device to be successful in using it.”

“What about the bowl?” asked Rose. “They didn’t use the knife on all of their victims.”

River took a few moments to examine the bowl but then shook her head. “The bowl is just a normal bowl,” she said.

“The lamp, maybe,” suggested Tosh. “They apparently used that with everyone, didn’t they?” She glanced at Rose, who nodded.

River examined the lamp which had cracked slightly when Rose had pushed it to the floor. 

“All done,” said Owen, and Rose noticed her skin was pristine with no signs of any wounds. She must have been gaping because Owen grinned smugly as he started to pack his instruments back up. “I’ll write you a prescription for some painkillers and I’d advise a good night’s rest.”

“T-thank you,” said Rose. She would have to ask Jack about the medical technology his team (because these people had to be his team) had access to.

“Oh,” said River. “This lamp is not the control device but it’s from the same technology.”

“It’s more likely what we have here is the infinite monkey theorem in action,” said Jack.

“I concur,” nodded River. “They had the bits and pieces of the right technology and the right information but not exactly the correct one. Hence the failures. The psycho bitch over there could have killed a few hundred people more but never perfected it.”

“Do we know the origins of the technology?” asked Susie, with interest. 

“Pre-Olympian, I would say,” said River.

“I’m sorry, did you just say-?” asked Owen, as all of them except Jack gaped at her.

“Pre-Olympian,” nodded River. “From the era of the Titans.”

“Hold on, the Titans were aliens?” asked Rose.

River shrugged. “Most gods in history were deified because they could perform magic and miracles that humans could not dream of,” she said. “What does that sound like to you?”

“That plus a bit of inaccurate recorded history and deliberate sabotage to conceal their interference, means that what we like to think of as gods, were nothing more than aliens,” nodded Jack.

They were all just silent as those words sank in. Rose wondered if it was due to the ordeal she had been through, or just general stress, but she felt like bursting into hysterics. Any time she felt like she had a grasp on how deeply involved aliens had been with humans throughout history, a moment like this completely flipped her worldview on its head. 

“Anyway, enough of this,” said Jack. “Owen, are you all done?”

“Uh, yes,” he said, quickly scribbling out a prescription for Rose.

“Okay, Susie, prepare these two for transport,” ordered Jack, looking at Caroline and Wyatt.

“Wait,” said Rose, and got to her feet. “They never told me what they did with the bodies.”

“The bodies?” asked Susie.

“The women before me. They just said they took the bodies out of the museum,” said Rose. “Those women had families, they have a right to know.”

“We will find out, Rose,” Jack assured her. “I promise.” He nodded at Susie, who used those little prison cells to capture both of them. “You and Owen head back to base. Tosh, you stay for the clean up. I’ll notify Sarah.” His team sprang into action, and Jack turned to River. “You and Rose should head back to London. We’ll sort this out.”

“Great,” said River, and pulled off her coat to hand it to Rose. “Let’s go.”

“What will happen to them?” asked Rose, looking at Jack.

He exchanged a look with River, but Rose waited for his response with a stubborn look on her face.

“We will interrogate them,” said Jack. “We won’t torture them,” he added, when Rose looked alarmed. “And then we will hand them over to the appropriate authorities. There will be some careful maneouvering but rest assured, they will both face justice for their involvement in the murder of those women.” When Rose opened her mouth to ask for details, Jack held up a hand. “It’s better you don’t know much more than that.”

Rose frowned but didn’t argue as she let River lead her back to the hotel. River hovered, not unlike Jackie, as Rose took a shower and dressed for the journey back to London.

“Ready to go?” asked River, as Rose finished packing her bag again.

Rose was about to nod, but then took a deep breath and burst into tears. She heard River make a noise of concern before grabbing her into a hug. Rose held onto her as the events crashed into her all at once; the torture, the near-death experience, the fear, the stress and the relief all hitting her at the same time. River stroked her back as she cried, and poured her some water, when Rose finally quietened down to sniffles.

“I’m sorry,” said Rose, after taking a drink.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” said River, sitting down next to her. “You went through something terrible, Rose. The adrenaline’s worn off, so it’s only natural that you need some time to process this. Trust me, you are doing much better than most people under these circumstances.”

“Thank you, River,” said Rose, with a watery smile. “And thank you for coming to look for me.”

“You’re thanking me?” asked River, astonished. “I’m the one who put you in danger in the first place.”

“You didn’t do that,” said Rose, firmly. “I chose this, and I was the one stupid enough to go and see Wyatt without telling you. I’m sorry for always worrying you, River.”

River smiled fondly and shook her head. “You’re alright now, and that’s all that matters,” she said.

Rose returned her smile and stood up. “Alright,” said Rose. “Let’s go home.”

~

“I’m back!” called Rose. “Mum, you home?”

There was no response but she could hear the telly playing which meant her mum was home. Rose had slept the whole train ride from Oxford to London, but she was still quite exhausted. River had explained that despite Owen having healed her, her body would need more time to recover. River had made her stop at the chemist’s and fill out the prescription that Owen had written for her, and Rose was ready to take one of the painkillers and sleep for the rest of the day.

“How was Oxford?” asked Jackie, as she grinned at her from the sofa.

“It was fine, yeah,” said Rose. “Nothing remarkable.”

“It’s a shame then, that you will have to turn around and go right back in a few weeks,” said Jackie.

Rose stared at her and then at the piece of paper on the coffee table, as it clicked that her results were supposed to arrive today. “You opened it?” asked Rose, diving for it immediately.

“Of course, I did,” said Jackie. “I couldn’t wait.”

Rose didn’t pay attention as her heart nearly beat out of her chest. Her hands trembled but she unfolded the letter and ran her eyes down the list.

**Anthropology**  
A  
**Archaeology**  
A  
**History**  
A

She vaguely heard her mum telling her she’d already put the champagne in the fridge to cool, but Rose could not contain the wide smile encompassing her face.

She was going to Oxford.


	7. The Curious Sapphire

Rose did not get much time to focus on the events at the Ashmolean since she had to finish the last little bits of her enrolment at Oxford as well as packing to move. 

Oxford had three terms - the Michaelmas Term from early October to early December, the Hilary Term from mid January to mid March, and the Trinity Term from the end of April to the end of June. The Michaelmas Term was due to start on the 7th of October for the first years, but the date of arrival was the 5th of October for most UK students.

Once she had her student IT access set up on her brand new laptop which was a joint gift from Jack and River, Rose was surprised to see she already had an email from her college, inviting her to a meeting just a day after arriving.

As the date of departure grew closer, Rose checked and double-checked her to-do list. Her accommodation had been sorted out as well, and Rose made a careful budget on River’s advice.

On the morning of the 7th, Mickey came over to help carry Rose’s luggage and boxes down to the car which he was borrowing from his mate. Rose had also bought a second hand bicycle on Azalea’s advice, which Mickey hitched carefully to the back of the car. 

The drive felt long, mostly because Rose was nervous and her mother talked the whole way through about being cautious about the posh people and keeping her head down. When they finally reached Hertford College, Rose was the first one out of the car.

There were several people around the college and the main quad, students and families who looked extremely busy. Rose left her mum and Mickey to man the car, and went to the Porter’s Lodge after being directed by Riley, one of the members of the Freshers’ Committee.

Riley checked the list and informed her that her room was on the second floor of one of the buildings in the New Buildings Quad which also had the college bar in the basement, and a gym as well as laundry on premises. Her bicycle was registered and parked away, and he showed her where the porters kept the repair kit and spare air pump.

He gave Rose the key to her room and between him and Mickey, Rose’s things were moved into the room. The room wasn’t too big and only had space for a king-size single bed, a desk and chair, some shelves and bookcases, a built-in wardrobe, and a chair by the window. 

There were four other bedrooms on the floor, shared bathroom facilities on each end of the floor, and a shared kitchen space on the floor as well. 

“It’s pretty much similar on all other floors,” explained Riley. “Only first years live on the main site for the most part. Second year and beyond usually move to the Folly Bridge accommodation or go to North Oxford instead to rent one of the townhouses.”

“But it’s still college accommodation, isn’t it?” asked Rose.

“It is,” nodded Riley. “We’re lucky here at Hertford; they offer accommodation for all years of education. Most colleges only offer it for first years and then you have to rent privately which is stupidly expensive.” Riley grinned and consulted his clipboard. “All of your neighbours on this floor are first years, so that should be some comfort,” he said. “You’ll need to complete your registration and get your student card. Registration sessions start on the hour. Did you take a tour when you came for your interview?”

“I did,” nodded Rose.

“Good, but there will be a refresher when you do the registration session,” he said.

“Thank you,” said Rose, and Riley took his leave, waving goodbye to Mickey and her mum.

“Well, then,” said Jackie, looking around the room. “Let’s start unpacking.”

“Mum, it’s alright,” chuckled Rose. “You two have a long drive back home. I’ll be fine. Really,” she insisted, when Jackie protested.

“Oh, alright then,” conceded Jackie and held out her arms. “Come and give us a hug.”

Rose grinned and hugged her mother tightly, and kissed her cheek as she pulled away. “I love you, mum,” she said. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah,” said Jackie, looking a bit teary-eyed but pressed a kiss on her forehead. “You call if you need anything, alright?”

“I will,” she said, and turned to Mickey. “Thanks for the help, Micks,” she said, giving him a hug as well. 

“Take care, Rose,” he said, hugging her back. 

“You too,” she grinned. She walked them back to the car and waved goodbye as they drove away. It felt oddly emotional even though she knew rationally that she could hop on a train and be home in a few hours.

Swallowing against the lump in her throat, she texted River to let her know she had arrived safely and headed back to her room. Since it was just after 1 in the afternoon, Rose decided to attend the 2 pm registration session. Unpacking took less time than expected and the bare room looked much nicer once Rose had her own sheets on the bed and her own things around. 

She went and explored the shared facilities which were neat and sparkling clean, which was a relief. A few minutes before 2, she went to the Porter’s Lodge and was directed to one of the other members, who double-checked her registration, before handing her a thick binder with an envelope on top. She was also assigned a pigeonhole in the Porter’s Lodge to receive letters and documents.

The envelope contained her student card, the timetable for the Freshers’ Week and details for the matriculation ceremony on the Saturday at the end of the first week of term. The binder had various things like the codes of conduct, campus maps and other miscellaneous guidebooks for reference. A quick tour followed, and Rose took note of the mealtimes for the large dining hall.

It was still only a little after 3, so Rose decided to return to her room, but saw a girl around her age struggling to carry a large box up the stairs.

“Do you need help?” asked Rose.

The girl paused and looked at Rose, her eyes going wide. She was about the same height and age as Rose, and had curly blonde hair tied in a messy bun and bright blue eyes, dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a dark blue jumper. She looked very taken aback when she saw Rose, and didn’t say anything.

“Hello?” asked Rose. “Are you alright?”

She blinked and then nodded quickly. “No, yes, I’m fine,” she said, quickly, and Rose was not expecting the Northern accent but it suited her somehow. 

“What floor are you going to?” asked Rose.

“Second,” she said.

“Me too,” said Rose, and grabbed the box on one side. “Come on, I’ll give you a hand.”

She blinked a few more times before nodding again. “Thank you,” she said, as they began making their way up the stairs. The box wasn’t heavy, just large, but it was easier to carry between the two of them.

“I’m Rose, by the way,” she said. “Rose Tyler.”

“Miranda,” she said. “D-Dawkins.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Rose, as they climbed past the first floor. “First year?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Mathematics. You?”

“First year. Arch and Anth,” said Rose. “Maths, really?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I love numbers.”

“To each their own,” chuckled Rose, as they reached the second floor. To Rose’s surprise, Miranda walked over to the room right next to Rose’s. “Oh, we’re neighbours,” said Rose.

“Seems so,” said Miranda, as they set the box down. Her room was yet to be unpacked and she was glancing around a bit apprehensively. “This is going to take me a long time.”

“You need a hand?” asked Rose.

“Really?” asked Miranda.

“Yeah, I’m already unpacked and I’ve done the registration. I haven’t really got anything on until dinner,” shrugged Rose.

“Thank you, R-Rose,” she said, stumbling just a bit over her name.

Rose just smiled as she and Miranda began unpacking her room. She had a lot of books on mathematics that looked too advanced for Rose to even open. She also had clothes that appeared expensive enough for Rose to know her family was well-off.

Miranda needed to complete her registration, so Rose bid her goodbye and returned to her room. Rose thought she was a bit odd, but fairly nice otherwise. An hour later, she was going through the binder in her room when there was a knock on her door.

“Hi, Rose,” said Miranda, when Rose opened the door. “I’ve finished my registration.”

She was glancing around awkwardly and Rose wondered if she was just a bit shy. “That’s good,” grinned Rose. “I’m just planning for the next few days. Come in.”

Miranda perked up when Rose invited her in and she closed the door and took a seat in the chair by the window. “What do you mean, planning?”

“I have a meeting with my college tutor first thing in the morning tomorrow,” said Rose. “And then Friday is induction day for the School of Archaeology followed by a reception in the evening. I definitely want to go to the Freshers’ Fair as well, so I’m just trying to work out how I do all that.”

“I want to go to the Freshers’ Fair, too,” said Miranda. “We could...go after your meeting in the morning?”

“Sure,” grinned Rose, and glanced at her watch. “Almost time for dinner. Wanna go?”

Miranda nodded, and Rose shut her notebook. Rose double checked she had her student card and room key before they went to the dining room.

“We have to use our student card to buy food, don’t we?” asked Miranda.

“Yeah, and they send us the invoice at the end of the term,” said Rose. The food looked fairly decent, so Rose got the standard dinner that day which was roast chicken, with a side of mashed potatoes, peas, carrots, broccoli, and a slice of banoffee pie for dessert. Miranda chose the vegetarian option of spinach and cheddar quiche, with a side of coleslaw and garden salad, and the banoffee pie for dessert.

“I’m not a vegetarian,” explained Miranda, as they took their food out to the dining room and sat at one of the tables. “The quiche just looked really good.”

Rose laughed and glanced around to see there were a few people here and there, either sitting alone or with friends. No one really paid them much mind, so Rose and Miranda ate together, conversing easily.

She learned Miranda was from a small village near Manchester (unsurprisingly, given her accent) and had been homeschooled (which explained some of her awkwardness, thought Rose). Rose asked about her family but she just got very quiet, so Rose changed the subject.

At Rose’s insistence, they went to the college bar after dinner. It was nothing remarkable but it was decidedly busier than the dining hall and had three separate drinking rooms. There was a group of people throwing darts, a loud group by the pool table and several people drinking at the bar or at one of the tables.

“What are you getting?” Rose asked Miranda, as they were walking up to the bar.

“Uh,” Miranda hesitated, and Rose stopped and looked at her. 

“Have you had alcohol before?” asked Rose.

Miranda went a little pink and shook her head. “I am of age!” she insisted. “I just...never had the occasion to try it.”

Rose chuckled and linked her arm with hers. “Come on, then,” she said, pulling her toward the bar. “I’ll buy your first one.”

The bar was being tended by a young man with dark skin and a sharp jaw. He grinned when he saw them approach. “Evening, ladies,” he greeted in a thick Irish accent. “What can I get you?”

“What have you got on tap?” asked Rose. 

He glanced at them with a smile. “First years?” he asked.

“That obvious, huh?” laughed Rose.

He shrugged with a bright grin. “I’ll make you both a welcome drink then,” he said, setting down two coasters and empty glasses. “I’m Des, by the way.”

“I’m Rose, this is Miranda,” said Rose. “What’s the drink?”

“The Pango,” he said, as he mixed the drinks. “It’s sweet but you’ll like it, I promise.”

“Thanks,” said Rose, and reached into her pockets for cash but Des waved it away. 

“It’s your first drink at Hertford,” he said. “Trust me when I say you’ll be needing all the alcohol you can get in the coming weeks.”

Rose laughed and glanced at Miranda, who had been watching that entire conversation like a show on telly. “You alright?” Rose asked her, and Miranda nodded quickly.

“Here we are,” said Des, and poured a bright pink cocktail into the glasses. “Enjoy, ladies.”

“Thanks, have a good one,” grinned Rose, as they grabbed their drinks.

“There’s an empty table here,” said Miranda, and they quickly snagged it. “You’re very good at talking to people.”

Rose laughed at the blunt way she said it. “Thanks,” she said. “Go on then, let’s try the drinks,” she added, and held up her glass. “Cheers.”

Miranda clinked her glass with hers and cautiously sipped the drink through the straw. Her eyes went wide and she blinked at the drink in delight. “It’s delicious,” she said. 

Rose had to agree when she took a sip as well. She could taste cordial and lemonade and there was no hint of alcohol at all, and if Rose hadn’t counted exactly the number of shots Des had added to the drink, she would have thought there was no alcohol in it. As such, she knew it would take only a couple of these drinks to get completely blotto.

Miranda was downing hers at an alarming rate, and Rose laughed. “Slow down,” she said. 

“But it tastes so good!” said Miranda, and Rose could already see the flush on her cheeks.

“That’s the point,” said Rose “The sugar masks the taste of alcohol.”

“Oh,” said Miranda. “That makes sense.” She did slow down though, which made Rose giggle.

“Did your parents not allow you to drink?” asked Rose, and then winced because it had slipped out without her meaning to.

Miranda, thankfully, was already on her way to being drunk and just smiled at Rose. “I only turned 18 a couple of months ago, so there wasn’t an opportunity,” she said. “And besides, my parents…” she paused and looked at Rose before fidgeting with a large, blue sapphire ring on her finger. Rose had noticed it before but she hadn’t brought it up and knew it was on the wrong hand to be an engagement ring. “They’re...gone now.”

Rose immediately sobered up. “Miranda...I am so sorry,” she said.

Miranda nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “Their loss...it’s fresh, and I am not used to...strangers.” She looked at Rose earnestly. “So I am sorry if I seem odd.”

“You’re not odd,” said Rose, at once. “Well, maybe a little, but I think all the best people are.” Miranda smiled and Rose was glad. “I lost my dad when I was a baby, so it’s just me and my mum now. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose both your parents.”

Miranda nodded. “I wouldn’t wish it on anyone,” she said, and her smile turned wistful. “They were both...fantastic.” She looked at her, and for some reason, Rose felt the odd urge to cry. But the moment passed and Miranda looked down and finished her drink.

Rose blinked and drank her own drink quietly. With a slightly subdued air about them, they left the bar and returned to their floor. Rose remembered to thank Des on their way out, who waved goodbye at them.

“Drink some water before you go to sleep,” Rose told Miranda as they reached their rooms.

“I will,” smiled Miranda. “Thank you for the drink, Rose. And,” she paused and her smile seemed almost familiar in that moment. “I hope we can be friends.”

~

The next morning, Rose woke up around 7 and was showered and dressed an hour later. Her meeting with her college tutor was at 9, so she had time for breakfast at least. Dressed in a pair of fitted dark wash jeans and a maroon v-neck jumper, with Doc Martens, Rose put her laptop and notebook into her satchel and knocked on Miranda’s door.

She expected Miranda to have just woken up, but she was showered and dressed as well when she opened the door. Unlike the day before, she was wearing a light green midi dress with a pleated skirt and a blue denim jacket on top. 

“Morning, sleep well?” asked Rose.

“I did,” smiled Miranda. “You?”

“Yeah,” said Rose. “I’m going down for breakfast.”

“Alright, let me just grab my shoes,” said Miranda. 

Rose waited as she put on her trainers, and the two of them went to the dining hall for breakfast after that. The dining hall was still not that full so after they bought their respective breakfast items, they easily snagged a table to themselves. Rose sipped her coffee between bites of her cheese and tomato croissant, hoping the caffeine would wake her.

“Do you have to go soon?” asked Miranda, and Rose checked her phone.

“Yeah, in five minutes,” she said. “The office is just past the Bridge of Sighs. What are you doing?”

“My tutor has already sent through some assigned reading,” said Miranda. “I was going to explore the library and work on that.”

“Alright,” said Rose, finishing the last of her coffee. “I’ll come find you in the library when I’m done and we’ll go to the Freshers’ Fair.”

“Sounds good,” grinned Miranda. 

Rose smiled and cleared her tray before going to the tutorial room. She got there a few minutes before nine, but she could already see three other people in the room.

“And blondie over there makes four,” said one of the boys, as she walked in. “Nice of you to join us.”

Rose narrowed her eyes at him, noting she was the only girl. Unfortunately, the only free seat was the one next to him, so Rose sat down and placed her bag on the floor.

“I’m Leo Kempton,” said the boy on Rose’s other side with the short black hair. 

“Rose Tyler,” she said, shaking his hand when he offered it.

The boy next to him introduced himself as Karan Gopal, and Rose smiled politely as she shook his hand as well. 

“And you?” she asked, turning to the boy who had spoken when she’d walked in.

He rolled his eyes but held out his hand. “Elliott O’Keefe,” he said.

“Pleasure,” deadpanned Rose, shaking his hand.

Elliott almost looked like he would smile but instead shrugged sardonically. “I’m sure,” he said. He was tall, even when sitting, and had messy auburn hair and a freckled face. 

“Do we know if there are any more?” asked Karan.

“Hertford only offers four places for the arch and anth program,” said Elliott, in a long-suffering tone.

_At least he was a dick to everyone_ , thought Rose.

The door to the room opened and a man and a woman walked in. The man was of Asian descent and in his late forties, holding a stack of booklets in his arms. The woman with him was petite, with short black hair, olive skin and tortoiseshell glasses. Rose recognised her as one of the people who had sat in on her interview last December.

“Good morning,” said the woman, as the man set down the stack of booklets on a nearby desk. “I’m Dr Keira Milton, one of the college tutors for arch and anth at Hertford. This is my colleague, Dr Martin Teo.”

“Hi,” grinned Martin, with a short wave. 

“We prefer to be on a first name basis with all of you,” said Keira, looking over at them. “Lecturers like to be addressed formally, but tutors not so much.”

“What’s the difference?” asked Leo, and Rose could practically hear Elliott’s eyes rolling.

“I’ll get to that,” said Keira. “Why don’t we finish introductions first?”

A quick round of introductions followed, before Keira smiled at all of them.

“The Arch and Anth program is a three year course, as you know,” she said. “As first years, you will be studying four papers over the three terms through a combination of lectures, tutorials and a bit of lab work.” Martin stood up and handed out two booklets to each of them. 

“The Yellow Book,” continued Martin from where Keira had left off. “Contains the basic information about the course and offers guidance. It has all the deadlines, information on exams, codes of conduct, support systems etc. The Green Book contains the syllabus, course content and other miscellaneous information pertaining to your studies and assigned reading.”

“The books are relevant for the entire duration of your degree,” said Keira. “They are your guide and your first point of reference if you are ever in doubt. For the first year, you will have about six hours of lectures per week, and three tutorials every fortnight.” She glanced at Leo. “The lectures are university-wide, so it will be your class of 22 in attendance.”

“The tutorials will be conducted by us,” said Martin. “They usually last an hour and we will be guiding your learning as well as assigning further reading, practice exams and moderating discussions.”

“Here are your timetables,” said Keira, passing them out. “Leo and Karan are with me. Elliott and Rose are with Martin.” Rose felt her heart sink. “We like to have the pairs put in place right away because we found it encourages collaboration throughout your course of study.”

“And a little bit of competition, which is always good,” added Martin, with a grin.

The meeting continued for a little while as Keira and Martin discussed their expectations, and notified them they had to complete a four-week field study component during the summer before their second year. 

“I think that’s all for today,” said Keira, at the end of the two hour meeting. “We’ll see you at the induction tomorrow.”

Rose closed her notebook and packed away her things. Elliott walked out without another word to anyone, and Rose tried not to roll her eyes at what was essentially her study partner for the next three years. She said goodbye to the rest of the people in the room before taking her leave.

For better or for worse, her time at Oxford was off to an interesting start.

~

The first month at Oxford flew by before Rose could even notice. She settled into the life of a university student more easily than she expected. Rose never had trouble making friends, so it was no different in a brand new environment. Her and Miranda were well on their way to becoming best friends, and apart from her, Rose had made friends with people on their floor, some of the porters, the housekeeper and scouts who maintained the college buildings, and the library staff. 

It only took a few days for Rose to understand why the university did not like the students being employed during term time. While she only had six hours of lectures and one or two hours of tutorials during the entire week, the amount of studying she needed to do was almost like having a full-time job. The assigned reading itself would take up hours and hours of her time, and Rose had become a regular at both the college library or the Bodleian which had quickly become her favourite place at the university.

Martin was demanding with both her and Elliott, and while Elliott’s attitude left much to be desired, Rose realised he was quite intelligent and well-read. It made her push herself, a fact Martin was no doubt pleased about. She and Elliott studied together almost every day in the library.

It was one evening that they were finishing up their notes about the upcoming tutorial about Pliocene hominin diversity in the library. The tutorial was in two days’ time, but they had attended the lecture that afternoon so they had decided to get their notes done while the information was still fresh. 

Rose’s phone buzzed with a text message and she glanced at it briefly, without pausing her note-taking. 

“By all means,” said Elliott, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure you have much more important things to do.”

“Shut up,” said Rose, without rising to the bait. She’d found that the best way to deal with Elliott was to be just as annoying as him, and while she knew they’d never really be best friends, she actually didn’t mind him so much as a study partner. She would never admit it to him, though, not even on the pain of death. Rose finished what she was writing before opening the message from the Secretary of the Archaeological Society which she had joined on Martin’s advice, along with the Anthropological Society. “It’s from Anthony about the seminar tomorrow,” she told Elliott.

“Why is he texting you about that?” asked Elliott, with a frown.

“Because I’m helping him and Jordan set up the room for the seminar,” shrugged Rose.

“Of course you are,” said Elliott. “Pretty sure this isn’t what Martin had in mind when he told us to get involved.”

Rose rolled her eyes at him. “Unlike you, I like to do more than the bare minimum,” she said. “And,” she added, before he could argue. “Martin said the point was also to expand our network.”

“In that case, he should have asked us to join Bullingdon,” he said, and Rose snorted.

“The dining clubs are something else altogether,” said Rose, shaking her head. “More than half of them still don’t allow women in.”

“They’re not thrilled about me either,” said Elliott. “Too gay for them.”

He said it casually, but there was wariness in his gaze. “That and you weren’t spat out by Eton or wherever the posh people go to school with their butlers trailing behind them,” said Rose, without missing a beat. 

Elliott seemed almost relieved, and Rose was glad. “Either way,” said Elliott, clearing his throat and smiling at Rose genuinely for the first time since she’d met him. “As far as reputations go when it comes to the societies at Oxford, you can’t do any worse than Bullingdon. Well, as far as the known ones go.”

“What do you mean by known ones?” asked Rose.

Elliott raised his eyebrow. “Surely you know about the secret ones,” he said.

“Aren’t most of the dining clubs secret societies anyway?” asked Rose. “They have their own weird traditions and all, don’t they?”

“There’s a difference,” he said. “Oxford had all these societies that were so secret, nothing about them was known, apart from names. My older sister told me there was one called the Butterflies that was supposedly founded in the late nineteenth century but then it vanished without a trace, with all of its members.”

Rose stared at him. “You’re saying they all disappeared?” she asked.

He nodded. “The university supposedly covered it up,” he said. “Said the members all died on an excursion.” Elliott shrugged before turning back to his notes. “Anyway, let’s finish up. We’ll miss dinner otherwise.”

Rose agreed and they returned to their studies, though the mention of the Butterflies stayed on her mind for the rest of the week.

Finally, Miranda suggested they should do some more research into the club.

“The Bod has all the records for clubs and societies in the Special Archives,” she told Rose, when Rose brought it up over dinner a few days later. “Just put in the request.”

Rose agreed and put in a request for the records. She received a notification that the records were ready a day later, and she and Miranda made their way to the Bod after breakfast on Saturday.

“Hi,” said Rose, to the person at the front desk, an elderly woman with neatly curled silver hair, wearing a light mocha-coloured tweed suit whose badge said her name was Adina Teasedale. “I put in a request for some records,” she added, handing over her student card.

“Certainly,” said Adina and scanned her card. “Oh, yes, you wanted the records for Oxford’s clubs and societies. The records are extensive, so let me know if there is anything particular you’re looking for.”

“Sure,” said Rose. “I just want to look at one in particular. An old society, called the Butterflies?”

Adina’s eyebrows raised slightly before she nodded. “Alright, find a table. I’ll bring it out.”

“Thanks,” said Rose, and she and Miranda snagged a space to themselves by the window. 

Adina came by a few minutes later with two boxes on a trolley. “Here you go,” she said. “I’ve only brought the A-E sections since you’re looking for the Butterflies.”

“Did you know anything about them?” asked Rose.

“I’m afraid not,” said Adina, with a rueful smile. “I’ll leave this here. As always, nothing is to be removed from the Bod.”

“Of course, thank you,” said Miranda.

A search of the records did not turn up anything new. The Butterflies were founded in 1880 and disbanded in 1887. It was significant since it was the only Oxford society at the time to be exclusively female.

“I thought women weren’t allowed at Oxford until 1920,” frowned Rose.

“No, they have been allowed since the 1870s,” said Miranda. “They just weren’t allowed to graduate until 1920. They could attend classes, sit exams, but they couldn’t get degrees.”

“Such rubbish that,” said Rose, rolling her eyes.

The only thing of significance they could find was that in 1887, the entire group of 5 members disappeared while on a day trip to Abingdon Abbey. The society was disbanded after that and any attempts to revive it were refused by the university. After another hour of shuffling through the records, Rose and Miranda decided to call it a day.

“Any luck?” asked Adina, when they began packing up.

“Not much,” said Miranda. “But I suppose that’s the point of a secret society.”

“It’s a shame, though,” added Rose. “Those women must have been incredible, and it’s a shame their stories are lost to time.”

Adina gave her a curious look and tilted her head in agreement, and they thanked her before leaving. Miranda waved goodbye to Rose as she headed for a study session in the library, while Rose decided to head back to her room to do some laundry. She spent the rest of the morning doing two loads of washing while music played from her laptop. There was a knock on her door while she was folding her clothes and she opened it to find Jake Simmonds, one of the other people on their floor.

“Hey, Jake,” said Rose. 

“Hiya, Rose,” he said, with a bright smile.

Rose liked Jake; he was studying engineering and was a member of the college’s boat club. After Miranda, she considered him to be one of her closest friends at Oxford. 

“Listen, I was at the Porter’s Lodge for...something,” he said, and Rose raised her eyebrows.

“Something?” she asked, amused. “You mean you were sneaking in catnip for Simpkin?” Their college had a resident cat since the 70s, and each one of them was named Simpkin. The current Simpkin was Simpkin III and was an adorable black and white cat who enjoyed chasing birds and lazing around the pigeonholes in the Lodge.

“Maybe,” laughed Jake. “Anyway, I saw you had an envelope in your pigeonhole so I thought I’d bring it up.”

“Thanks, Jake,” she said, accepting the A4 brown paper envelope which was surprisingly heavy.

“No problem at all,” he said, and left with a cheeky salute.

Rose frowned as she closed the door to her room. The envelope only had her name on the back, which was quite unusual. Even if it were an internal delivery, it would at least have the college’s name and her room number on it. Rose opened the envelope and was shocked when she found a small square frame with a pinned red and black butterfly inside it. There was a small note alongside it, with elegant writing that said:

__

_Come find us between the two rivers  
At a place where the sun shines the brightest for the maidens_

Rose felt her heart thudding as a wide smile formed on her face. Laundry forgotten, she sat at her desk with her laptop. A quick search told her the butterfly was a Red Admiral but she couldn’t find anything significant about it.

She looked back at the little puzzle and frowned. There was only one river at Oxford, the Cherwell. She also had no idea about the place where the sun shone the brightest at Oxford, if even there were such a place. There was also the question of who had known Rose was looking into this.

Miranda did, of course, but she had been with Rose all morning. Elliott could have, and now that Rose thought about it, it would be just like him to play a stupid prank on her and gain enjoyment from sending her on a wild goose chase. But then she remembered Elliott had gone home for the weekend, which is why she had the day free as well. She had checked her pigeonhole earlier this morning before going to the Bod so the envelope would have to be left while she had been at the Bod.

The Bod, thought Rose suddenly. Adina had known Rose was looking into the Butterflies. She could have easily slipped into the college and dropped off the envelope, considering the Bod was right opposite Hertford. Rose quickly put the butterfly and the note into her bag and made her way back to the Bod. 

There was a different person at the front desk and Rose smiled at the man whose badge said his name was Eoin. 

“Hi,” said Rose. “Is Adina around? She was helping me earlier this morning.”

Eoin’s eyes turned wide. “Oh,” he said, and then sighed. “Adina was taken to the hospital.”

Rose blinked at him in shock. “Is she alright?” she asked.

“Afraid not,” he said. “She collapsed about an hour ago. We called an ambulance but she had stopped breathing.” He lowered his voice slightly. “She was pronounced at the hospital.”

Rose stared at him in disbelief. “I-I’m so sorry,” she said. 

“Thank you,” he said, with a small smile. “She will be missed.” He closed his eyes and shook his head before looking at Rose again. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“No, that’s alright, thanks,” said Rose. She waved goodbye at Eoin. “Take care.”

Rose walked out of the Bod, her mind racing. It was too much of a coincidence; her asking Adina about the Butterflies, the mysterious envelope with the butterfly and the riddle showing up, and then Adina dying only a few hours later. Rose returned to her room and sat back down at her desk. 

“Between two rivers,” she searched, on her laptop. The results showed up about a book with that same name, but then she saw the word ‘Mesopotamia’. She vaguely remembered something about a place in Oxford with that name, and so she found her copy of the campus map and checked it. 

Rose’s eyes went wide when she saw the Mesopotamia Walk, a walking path built between two branches of the Cherwell. It was past noon already, but Rose knew she had to look into this properly. Making up her mind, she went downstairs and grabbed her bicycle. The Mesopotamia Walk did not have bicycle access, so Rose went as far as King’s Mill, a house at the entrance of the Walk.

There weren’t too many people around and practically no one on the path, so Rose found a nearby place to park her bicycle and started walking up the path. She still had no idea what the second part of the puzzle meant, and she consulted the note once again.

The day was overcast so there was no telling where the sun would shine the brightest. At one point, Rose paused and wondered what exactly she was hoping to find. If indeed Adina’s death had not been a coincidence, she had been deliberately killed and Rose had been sent an invitation to practically walk into the lair of this secret society. It would be a foolish move for her to follow the clues but now that she had started, Rose knew she couldn’t stop.

She heard footsteps coming toward her and she glanced ahead of her, and was surprised when she saw Des. He looked just as surprised to see her and raised his hand in greeting.

“Nice day for a walk, eh?” asked Rose.

“Yeah,” he agreed, with a small smile. “A few mates and I were down at Parson’s.”

“Parson’s?” asked Rose.

“Parson’s Pleasure, it’s just a bit further down,” he said, pointing back to where he had come from. “It used to be a sunbathing spot. But now it’s just nice to hang out.”

“A sunbathing spot?” asked Rose, her eyes going wide as she thought of the puzzle.

“Yeah,” he said. “Parson’s was famous. It was one of only two nude sunbathing places at Oxford.”

“What’s the other one?” asked Rose.

“Dame’s Delight,” he explained. “Parson’s was all-male, and Dame’s Delight was for the women.”

“Does Dame’s Delight still exist?” asked Rose, eagerly. Des looked a bit confused and Rose quickly composed herself. “Sorry, I’ve just been trying to look into a bit of Oxford history.”

He nodded. “Well, Dame’s Delight is no longer there,” he said. “I mean the place still exists but nature’s taken over. It’s safe enough for a hike, I would imagine.”

“Could you point me toward it?” asked Rose.

Des agreed and gave her directions to Dame’s Delight, which Rose carefully memorised. Bidding him goodbye, Rose set off toward Dame’s Delight. She came upon the concrete bank that was left over from when Dame’s Delight was a nude sunbathing spot for women but like Des had said, nature had otherwise taken over. Rose saw a few swans here and there, but the wetland meadow by the river was otherwise empty.

Rose came across a metal bar attached to the piling that could have once belonged to a diving pier and paused, looking out onto the river.

“You found it.”

Rose whirled around at the voice behind her and stared at the woman standing there. She looked to be around Rose’s age with delicately curled golden hair and the greenest eyes Rose had ever seen on a person. Rose was oddly reminded of Violet when she saw her. The woman was wearing a light mocha coloured pantsuit and before Rose could remember where she had seen it before, the woman smiled and turned into Adina.

“W-who are you?” asked Rose.

The woman turned back into the golden-haired beauty again and smiled at Rose. “I have many names, but the one I am known by is Etain,” she said.

Rose noticed her Irish brogue and knew that Adina had not had it that morning. “Etain?” asked Rose, vaguely thinking the name sounded Celtic.

Etain smiled a little. “I would not expect you to know who I am, child,” she said. “Few do these days.”

Something about the way she spoke reminded Rose of Violet again. “A-are you a fairy?” asked Rose.

Etain’s smile grew wider. “You are clever, little flower,” she said, and Rose felt the air around them grow warmer. “I am a bit more than just an average fairy, though. I existed at a time when the veil between the worlds of humans and fae was all but non-existent. I am what humans of such a time referred to as a sun goddess.”

Rose’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Are you of Earth still?” she asked, thinking of the Titans.

Etain nodded. “Yes,” she said. “This planet birthed me and my kind.” She tilted her head at Rose. “You have encountered my kind before, haven’t you child? I smelled it on you when you came to the Bodleian this morning.”

Rose thought of Violet and nodded. “It was near Cardiff,” she said.

“In Roundstone, no doubt,” said Etain. “How is young Violet?”

Rose wondered how old Etain was if she thought Violet was young. “She is well,” said Rose.

“That is nice to hear,” said Etain. “Perhaps I will visit her when I leave.”

“You’re leaving?” asked Rose. “Why?”

Etain smiled a little and walked toward Rose. “Shall I tell you my story, little flower?” At Rose’s nod, Etain’s smile grew wider. “I was born a fae princess. To a loving King and a doting Queen. The fae kingdoms said I was beautiful and I soon caught the eye of another King, who coveted me for himself. He was married, my Midir, but he cast aside his wife, Fuamnach and chose me as his new bride. I was a little princess, too afraid of refusing the match, and so I was traded away to Midir.”

Rose could hear the pain in her voice and there were unshed tears in her too-green eyes. 

“Fuamnach could not bear the insult so she cast a curse on me,” continued Etain. “She turned me into a scarlet fly. But Midir did not care. He still said he loved me and I saw his true devotion to me, then. I came to love him dearly, and Fuamnach was infuriated that her efforts were in vain. So she called upon a storm and blew me away. I was flung far away from Midir but I returned to him after seven long years. When Fuamnach found out, she called upon another storm and set me adrift. But this time, I could not return to Midir.”

Etain smiled a little and looked out onto the river briefly. “I was consumed by a human woman and I grew in her womb to be born as a human babe,” she said. “As luck would have it, I was reborn as a princess once again, over a thousand years since I had first been born as a fairy. And this time, as if fate were playing a cruel joke on me, another king sought me for himself. Once again, I was traded away to him. But this time, I was not fortunate to have his affections or even his attentions. I was a prize; locked away and admired for my beauty.”

“That’s terrible,” said Rose, her heart clenching.

Etain smiled at her before continuing. “As luck would have it, the one who did love me was the king’s brother,” said Etain. “But it is not in my nature to betray my vows of marriage and I could not return his affections. He grew ill and as death loomed over him, he made a request of me. He asked for three nights with me. Though I did not wish to betray my marriage, I agreed to his requests if it meant he would live, for I knew my husband to be fond of his brother.”

She grew sad once again and glanced away before speaking again. “Midir found me,” she said. “He had been searching for over a thousand years and he had finally found me. He took on the appearance of the king’s brother and came to me in his place, and on his last night with me, he told me who he was. He asked me to return to his kingdom with him. Begged me,” she added. “But I couldn’t. I couldn’t betray my husband, not even a cold husband like mine.”

Etain looked at Rose, and it struck Rose how inhuman fairies could appear sometimes, despite looking outwardly human. There was so much pain in Etain’s gaze, Rose felt her own knees tremble with the effort of standing.

“What happened next?” asked Rose, her voice sounding low and hushed.

“Midir did not like my answer and he challenged my husband to a game of fidchell,” said Etain. “It’s a boardgame of sorts, a bit like chess,” she explained, before Rose could ask. “Midir kept betting incredible riches and feats of magic, and kept losing every time. The king grew confident and so when Midir’s next bet was a kiss and an embrace from me, the king did not hesitate to accept the bet because he was confident in his victory. It was a victory he did not get, of course.”

“He tricked him?” asked Rose.

“Fae kind are known for it, child,” said Etain, sardonically. “The king lost, but he refused to lose me to Midir. He told Midir he could only collect on the bet a year later. When Midir went away, the king spent the year building defenses around the kingdom to prevent Midir from being able to return. But humans have always underestimated the strength of my kind and our magic. Midir appeared right in the king’s palace and stole me away.” Etain pursed her lips. “But the years had not been kind to Midir. He had become twisted, cruel, as if the Midir I knew had died when that storm had blown me away for the second time. The last straw…” 

She paused and closed her eyes briefly. “I had been pregnant,” she continued. “With the king’s child when Midir stole me away. The king had not known, and even I discovered it after Midir had taken me away to his kingdom. The king was looking for me and digging up very sid in the land to find Midir’s kingdom. When he did find the right one, he demanded that Midir return me. Midir instead presented fifty women to the king who all looked identical to me and asked him to choose the real Etain. And the king chose.” Etain’s face grew furious and tears streamed down her cheeks. “The king chose his own child. He took her home, thinking her his wife and bedded her.”

Rose felt sick to her stomach but she couldn’t even imagine how much pain Etain would have been. 

“Midir laughed about it,” snarled Etain. “Uncaring that he had stolen my child and-and…” she couldn’t even continue and closed her eyes to calm down. “So I left him. I left behind everyone and everything I knew in both the human and fae world and lived in isolation. Changed my appearance so another king couldn’t appear to steal me as some sort of a prize. Lived on the fringes of society and over the course of time, fairies became a thing of mythology. Even my name was included in mythology, though my story tends to end after Midir tricked the king.”

“How did you come to Oxford?” asked Rose, her mind still whirling.

“I was bored so I thought I would enrol as a student at Oxford. The year was 1880 and Lady Margaret Hall had an all-female student population,” said Etain. “Bright, wonderful young women, doing their best to break past the confines of their society to carve out a place for themselves. While I was a sun goddess, I am also the goddess of transformation. I was fascinated, inspired, so I gave them a place to call their own. And a name to call ourselves.”

“The Butterflies,” realised Rose. 

Etain smiled and nodded. “Some versions of my story had Fuamnach turning me into a butterfly instead. I thought a butterfly prettier than a fly,” she said, with a small chuckle. Her smile vanished slowly. “Midir has always been on my tail so I never stayed in one place for long. But I was so happy with the Butterflies that I forgot the shadow chasing me and for the first time, I decided to do what I wanted. Make my own choices and my own decisions to do what made me happy. But,” she frowned. “He found me and the storm of his fury killed the Butterflies.”

“In 1887?” asked Rose, and Etain nodded. 

“I was the only one left standing but I escaped. For many years, I stayed away from Oxford and made sure no one could revive the Butterflies,” she said.

“But why?” asked Rose. “Why not let the Butterflies continue?”

“My selfishness led to their deaths,” snapped Etain. “Bright, beautiful young women with so much more courage than I could ever muster up myself, who were all dead because of me.”

“It was Midir’s fault they are dead,” argued Rose. “You gave them a place to come together when they had nowhere else. And while the world may have changed since then, it hasn’t changed enough yet. So I understand that you feel responsible, but it did not give you the right to prevent the Butterflies from continuing.” Rose’s eyes went wide at her own diatribe and she glanced away. “I’m-”

To her surprise, Etain started laughing, the beautiful tinkling laugh like bells and almost harmonious with the sound of the flowing river behind them. 

“I knew I had made the right choice when I saw you, Rose,” said Etain, and Rose was surprised that she used her name instead of calling her ‘child’ or ‘little flower’. 

“What do you mean?” asked Rose. 

Etain smiled. “It is time for me to move on,” she said. “It’s why Adina Teasedale had to die today. I have found it is the easiest for me to fake my death and I have been at Oxford long enough already. I suppose what I was waiting for was a successor.”

“A successor? For the Butterflies?” asked Rose.

Etain smiled and pulled out a folded document from her pantsuit. “Approval from the university to revive the Butterflies,” she said, holding it out to Rose.

Rose stared at her and slowly took the document. “You want me to-?”

“Yes,” said Etain. “Find like-minded women, Rose. Give them a place to feel safe, to grow and mature until they are ready to emerge from the chrysalis. Revive the legacy I let languish due to my own cowardice and guilt.”

“Are you sure?” asked Rose.

“Yes,” said Etain. “I have every confidence in you, Rose.” She smiled at her again before her expression grew positively mischievous. “I will leave you with one more gift.”

Before Rose could ask what it was, Etain walked past her to the metal bar attached to the piling and tapped her fingers against it in a rhythmic pattern of seven. On her third round of repeating the pattern, the bar shifted back toward the river and Rose watched in surprise as a pair of stairs appeared on the riverbank, seemingly leading down into a cavern under the river. 

There had not been enough of a disturbance in the ground to indicate there was some sort of a mechanism operating it, but Rose supposed it could have been created by Etain’s magic. She had seen Violet steal her right past the curtain without issue, and she would need to one day learn exactly what this ‘magic’ was supposed to be.

Etain turned to Rose and waved her arm toward the entrance. “The meeting place of the Butterflies,” she said.

Rose stared at her and then back at the entrance. “Can I-?”

“Of course,” nodded Etain, and Rose stepped toward it. 

The cavern went a fair bit down and definitely led to a place under the river from what she could see from the entrance. There was not enough light for Rose to see past the first few steps, though, so she turned back to Etain but saw that she had disappeared.

Chuckling to herself, Rose looked back at the entrance and then tapped her fingers in the same pattern that Etain had. On the third round, the stairs disappeared and the metal bar moved back to where it previously had been. Rose looked at the undisturbed ground and then smiled to herself. 

There would be time to discover the secrets of the Butterflies and to do what Etain had asked of her. In the meantime, it was getting dark and Rose had assigned reading for her lecture on Monday. Making up her mind to return soon, Rose started making the trek back to where she had left her bicycle.

All she knew was there was never a dull moment in her life, and she would never have it otherwise.


	8. The Saffron Span

It took Rose an entire day to thoroughly investigate the quarters belonging to the Butterflies, which she came to know was called the Chrysalis. Nestled under the Cherwell, the stairs led to a wide circular sitting room with old-fashioned Victorian furniture. The walls were lined with shelves full of books, the subjects ranging from arts to sciences and even the occasional bodice ripper. The sitting room had several chairs and tables and Rose deduced it must be a common room of sorts. Past the sitting room was a 12-person dining room, a private meeting room, and a bathroom. 

The Chrysalis had electricity and modern plumbing which surprised Rose, and she wondered if Etain had upgraded it before handing the reins over to Rose. The office also contained a ledger of all the members as well as the prospectus for the society. 

From what Rose could gather, the Butterflies hosted a dinner every Wednesday for all its members and the Chrysalis was open to all members otherwise throughout the week, with the exception of the office which could only be accessed while the club’s Secretary was in attendance. Membership was granted by solving a series of riddles and puzzles that would lead them to the Chrysalis. Rose also discovered a pile of stationery identical to the note she had been sent by Etain, which she assumed was what was used to send the puzzles to prospective members.

Rose had no idea who she was supposed to invite or where she could find the kind of women that Etain had described. She supposed she would invite Miranda at the very least, because Rose knew that puzzles would be no mystery to her. Other than that, Rose didn’t know enough people just yet to invite. Deciding to leave that decision for another day, Rose met Miranda at the college bar.

“I feel like we haven’t had the chance to see one another in a while,” said Miranda, when they each had their drinks.

Rose shrugged and downed half her drink easily. “It’s a busy time for everyone,” she said. “But you’re right. Time has seemed to fly by since the term started.”

“Yes, winter break is only weeks away,” said Miranda.

“Don’t remind me,” said Rose. 

“You’re not looking forward to it?” asked Miranda.

“Don’t get me wrong, I will enjoy a break but Martin has already warned us there will be assigned reading and essays to finish over break,” she said. “I will also be working and back living with my mum, which will take some getting used to again.”

Miranda gave her a confused look. “You and your mother don’t get along?” she asked.

“No, we do,” said Rose. “Mostly,” she added, with a chuckle. “I’ve just become used to the independence of living alone, I guess.” Then she realised how horrible she must sound, since Miranda no longer had either of her parents. “Sorry, Miranda…”

“No, I know you didn’t mean it that way,” said Miranda, with a forgiving smile. She tilted her head in contemplation and took a sip of her drink. “You could stay with me,” she offered. “If you like.”

“With you?” asked Rose. “In Manchester?”

“No, the house in Manchester is gone now,” said Miranda, eyes glancing away as she said it. “There’s a townhouse in Dulwich. I had been living there after my parents...anyway, it’s too big for me to live there by myself.”

“I wouldn’t feel right intruding,” said Rose, though it was an attractive prospect. Dulwich wasn’t too far from the Powell Estate and she could visit her mother but still have her own space. 

“You wouldn’t be intruding,” insisted Miranda. “There’s a spare bedroom with an ensuite, and it’s in a nice neighbourhood.”

“I am not sure I can pay rent if I am hoping to keep building my savings,” admitted Rose.

“You don’t have to pay rent,” said Miranda. “No, listen,” she added, when Rose started shaking her head. “I own the property outright. You can pay half the bills, if it would make you feel better.”

Rose bit her lip and nodded slowly. “Alright,” she said, and Miranda beamed at her. “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” nodded Miranda, and finished her drink. “Another?”

“Sure,” smiled Rose, and Miranda nodded and left to get them another round.

~

“...and I think that should do for today,” said Martin, and Rose sighed internally in relief as she saved the document and closed her laptop. “Anything else before we conclude?”

Rose shook her head, as did Elliott, but there was a knock on the door before Martin could dismiss them. 

“Yes?” called out Martin.

One of the secretaries from the college was at the door and she smiled at Martin. “Pardon me, Dr Teo,” she said. “Dr Vilensky wishes to see Miss Tyler in his office.”

Rose’s eyes went wide, wondering why the Principal of Hertford College wanted to see her. Martin and Elliott were equally surprised, but Martin composed himself quickly.

“Of course,” said Martin. “Rose,” he prompted.

“Right,” said Rose, packing up her things. “Thanks, Martin.”

“See you next week,” he nodded. 

Rose nodded back and went with the secretary to Dr Vilensky’s office. She was led into the office where the Principal was sitting in his chair and another gentleman in his late thirties was in a chair opposite him.

“Miss Tyler, sir,” announced the secretary, and ushered Rose in.

Rose smiled at her in thanks and glanced nervously at the two men in the room.

“Take a seat, Miss Tyler,” said Dr Vilensky. “Don’t worry, you’re not in any kind of trouble,” he added, and Rose wondered if she really had looked so terrified for him having to reassure her.

“Thank you,” nodded Rose, and took a seat in a chair next to the other man.

“This is Mr Burlington,” said Dr Vilensky. “He works for Wilder, Hanson and Burgmeier in town.”

“Hello, Mr Burlington,” said Rose, politely, wondering what a lawyer wanted with her.

“Good day to you, Miss Tyler,” he said, equally as polite. “I requested a meeting with you, and Dr Vilensky was happy to organise, given the subject of the meeting.” Mr Burlington set his briefcase down on Dr Vilensky’s desk and opened it. “Are you familiar with Ms Adina Teasedale?” he asked, pulling out a thick manila folder from the briefcase.

Hoping she didn’t look too surprised, Rose gave a nod. 

“As you know, Ms Teasedale recently passed on and our firm was tasked with handling the matters of her will,” said Mr Burlington, looking unsurprised.

“Oh,” said Rose.

Mr Burlington opened the folder and flipped through a few pages before stopping about halfway through. “Allow me to confirm,” he said, glancing at Rose. “Are you Rose Marion Tyler?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Rose.

“And you are currently enrolled in a three-year course for Archaeology and Anthropology at Hertford College at the University of Oxford?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Rose again, wondering what Etain had been up to. She hadn’t mentioned anything about a will, and given the tendency of fairies to be unpredictable, she had no idea if it would be a good thing or a bad thing waiting for her.  
Mr Burlington nodded and then looked at Mr Vilensky, before turning back to Rose. “Miss Tyler,” he said. “As part of her Last Will and Testament, Ms Teasedale has arranged for the payment of your undergraduate degree at Hertford College. There is also a further allowance of £5,000 for payment of any education-related expenses, placed in a term deposit account in your name.” He handed her a stack of paperwork that Rose accepted with numb hands.

“Miss Tyler,” said Dr Vilensky and Rose turned to him dumbly. “I am unclear how you were acquainted with Ms Teasedale but to explain further, Ms Teasedale’s estate will cover the cost of your education in full, inclusive of tuition fees and lodging and boarding. I understand you were in receipt of government support this year which will be cleared as well, leaving you with no debt for your studies.”

“I-” said Rose. “I don’t know what to say,” she said, finally.

“Ms Teasedale has no family to speak of,” said Mr Burlington. “You must have made quite an impression on her, Miss Tyler.”

“But it’s too much,” she said. 

“Evidently Ms Teasedale did not think so,” said Mr Burlington, pointedly.

“I am sure Miss Tyler is still in shock,” said Dr Vilensky, and Rose was grateful. She knew she was being rather rude, considering the massive favour that Etain had just bestowed upon her.

“In any case,” said Mr Burlington, clearing his throat. “I just needed you to read through those documents and sign the first and last pages, and initial each page,” he added, nodding at the documents he had handed her before turning to Dr Vilensky. “May I impose on your hospitality a bit longer, Dr Vilensky?”

“Of course,” said Dr Vilensky. “Miss Tyler?”

“R-right,” she nodded, and started reading the documents. Another twenty minutes later, she thanked Mr Burlington and Dr Vilensky after signing the documents and took her leave.

She had no idea why Etain had done that, but as it started to sink in that she did not need to be so worried about the financial side of her education, Rose couldn’t help but be overcome with relief.

“Thank you, Etain,” she murmured to herself. “I won’t let you down.”

~

As Rose was thinking that there was absolutely no way the rest of the term could hold any more surprises, two events occurred in quick succession in the last two weeks of the term, that left Rose equally delighted, bewildered, and wondering if she had a neon sign above her head that drew all the odd and unexplained to her.

The first happened on the Monday of the second to last week of term. Rose was at the Tylor Library which housed the anthropology collection to gather some resources for extra reading ahead of the lecture that week. She was in the main reading room in a quiet corner with her laptop open and a small pile of books on her table, when she heard footsteps approach from behind.

“Pardon me,” came the refined voice, and it took Rose a moment to realise she was the one being spoken to. She turned around and saw an Indian girl with beautiful curly black hair and deep brown skin. She was around Rose’s age, and had to be a student because Rose didn’t recognise her as one of the staff.

“Hi,” said Rose, wary still.

She smiled at Rose and moved to sit in the chair across from Rose. “My name is Shanaya,” she said. “Shanaya Surya. Are you Rose Tyler?”

Rose’s eyebrows shot up and her wariness grew. “Have we met?” she asked.

“No,” said Shanaya. “You must forgive my rudeness, but I must discuss something with you quite urgently.”

Rose narrowed her eyes at her, but Shanaya’s gaze was open and honest. Not trusting herself to speak just yet, Rose nodded at her to go ahead.

Shanaya seemed relieved. “I am a second year student here, studying Theology and Religion at Lady Margaret Hall,” she said. “We have an acquaintance in common, an unfortunate one at that.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Miss Caroline Redburn.”

Rose felt her breath catch and her entire body grew cold. Caroline Redburn, the psychotic witch who had tortured Rose at the Ashmolean and killed four other women before her. She’d only had an update from Jack a week ago that Caroline and Wyatt had been sentenced to imprisonment in a closed trial and details of their crimes had not been released outside of a few.

“Please, it is not my intention to bring up painful memories,” said Shanaya, looking genuinely contrite. “I assure you, I wish I didn't even have to mention her name.”

“What do you want?” asked Rose, without bothering to keep her tone civil.

Shanaya did not appear surprised at her hostility. “Caroline...was one of us.”

“One of who, exactly?” asked Rose, crossing her arms and glaring at her sharply.

Shanaya lowered her voice. “There...was a group of us at Lady Margaret and we had formed a...club of sorts,” she said. “It was not an official university society, just a few friends researching into…”

“Spells?” asked Rose, and Shanaya nodded.

“We thought it was all games at first,” said Shanaya, earnestly. “Interesting from a research perspective but nothing else. But then Caroline approached us. She must have overheard us while we were at the Ashmolean, and she...encouraged us to look a little deeper.”

“And I assume you did,” said Rose, and Shanaya nodded guiltily. “Did you know...about what she was doing?”

“No, I swear to you, I did not know,” said Shanaya, and Rose believed her when she saw the genuine remorse in her eyes. “If I did, if any of us did...we would have called attention to it.”

“So what happened?” asked Rose, softening her tone but only a little.

Shanaya looked encouraged, though still a bit anxious. “It was in the Trinity Term, right before summer break this year,” she said. “We would all meet once a week at a study room at the Ashmolean and try out little spells. None of them worked, of course, but we fancied ourselves...a coven, of sorts.” She shook her head. “It was a foolish flight of fancy, nothing more. But then, Caroline...she started speaking of practicing on live specimens. Animals at first, but humans as well. It made us...uncomfortable. No, more than that. There was something not quite right about the way she spoke of it. When we returned to our college, we decided to call off future meetings.”

“Because you didn’t trust Caroline?” asked Rose.

“Partly because of that,” said Shanaya. “But mostly because we did not wish to harm anyone or anything. I understand most practices of witchcraft, and I mean real Old World witchcraft as opposed to the modern practices of Wicca, are quite gruesome and horrifying. While the research was interesting, none of us wished to indulge in practicing something like that. It might not have even been real but it was still morally wrong.”

“So you disbanded,” said Rose, understandingly.

“Caroline was displeased but it wasn’t like she could do anything about it,” she said. “She isn’t even a student at Oxford. She made her displeasure known by glaring at us if we ever ran into her at the Ashmolean but nothing more than that. And then when we returned in October this year, we heard she was gone.” Shanaya sighed and leaned back in her chair. “It took me a while to find out what happened.”

“How did you find out?” asked Rose, curious since she knew Jack and whoever he worked for had gone to great lengths to cover up what had happened at the Ashmolean.

Shanaya looked guilty. “My father is a judge,” she said. “His office deals with...unusual matters.” She took a small breath before continuing. “I don’t pretend to understand everything that he does or the things he sees, but I...am a curious woman, to put it plainly.”

“You mean you snoop,” said Rose, bluntly.

Shanaya flushed but nodded. “I certainly do not share it with anyone,” she said, defensively.

“Not even with your friends? Your coven?” asked Rose, unable to help the slight jab.

Shanaya did not look too upset about it. “I don’t share it with anyone, not even them,” she repeated. “In fact, you are the first person I have discussed this openly with.”

“Why?” asked Rose. “Why talk to me? If you’ve read the case, you already know what happened.”

“It’s not about that,” said Shanaya, and looked a little distressed. “I just...I feel responsible.”

“For what?” asked Rose, confused. 

“For Caroline,” said Shanaya. “For what she did to you.”

“You didn’t have anything to do with what Caroline did,” said Rose. “You and your friends were sensible enough to distance yourselves from the crazy bitch.”

“Yes, but we remained silent and that silence caused the death of four women and almost a fifth,” said Shanaya.

Rose opened her mouth and then closed it. “Shanaya,” she said, slowly. “There is nothing you could have done to prevent it.” Shanaya looked like she wanted to interrupt but Rose just held up a hand. “Even if you had told someone, you would have just been laughed at. It’s unfortunate, yes, but it’s on Caroline. And Wyatt. Not on you.”

Shanaya didn’t look like she believed her but she nodded. “Alright,” she said. “But I still wanted to apologise to you.”

“You don’t have to, but I appreciate it,” said Rose.

Shanaya nodded in relief. “Thank you, Rose,” she said. “I am truly sorry about what happened.”

“Me too,” said Rose. “Just...know that it was not your fault.”

“I will try,” said Shanaya.

Rose smiled at her, a gesture which Shanaya returned. Something occurred to Rose, and she looked at Shanaya. “Can I ask you something, Shanaya?”

“Of course, anything,” said Shanaya, without hesitating.

“This could not have been the only case you know about,” she said.

“You would be right about that,” she said. “I read almost everything that comes across my father’s desk.”

“So you know…” Rose paused, wondering how to put it.

“That we are not alone in the universe?” completed Shanaya. “Yes, quite.”

“Are there others?” asked Rose. “Here at Oxford, I mean. People who know about the world beyond what everyone else knows.”

Shanaya smiled a little. “That is a very interesting way to put it,” she said. “There are some. I am not acquainted with all of them, mind you.”

“Could you tell me about them?” asked Rose, thinking of the Butterflies. She still had not started recruiting but she had already mentally added Shanaya to the list of potential members alongside Miranda. 

Shanaya looked confused but nodded after a moment. “I’ll tell you as much as I know,” she said.

At the end of the meeting with Shanaya, Rose had a list of ten potential female students across Oxford who could possibly be invited to join the Butterflies. Making up her mind to send out invitations in the first week of the Hilary Term, Rose thanked Shanaya and took her leave.

~

While the unexpected friendship with Shanaya was the first event of interest, the second one was of a familiar sort.

It was the last weekend before the end of the term, and Rose and Miranda had spent most of their Saturday packing up their respective rooms. Miranda had hired a car to London that was big enough to take all of their luggage as well, since all rooms at the college had to be emptied out for break. Rose had told her mum she would be living with Miranda during break, and while not completely thrilled, Jackie had made her promise she would come to stay at the flat for Christmas at the very least which Rose had agreed to easily.

December was right around the corner and days were growing shorter and shorter. After an entire day of packing, Rose had gone out to dinner with Shanaya and three of her friends who had all been a part of their ‘coven’. They met at Edamame, a little Japanese eatery near Hertford that served amazing food. 

After eating their fill and getting acquainted, Rose bid them goodbye and started walking back to Hertford as a cold evening breeze blew around her. Rose could feel her teeth chattering even though she was bundled up in a thick coat, knit hat and gloves as well as a thick, woollen scarf.

The wind was loud and whipping her hair around her head almost violently but she didn’t want to remove her hands from her coat pockets to tie it back. The sound was making her ears ring, but now that Rose thought about it, the wind sounded...odd. And then...it sounded oddly familiar.

Rose stopped in her path and whipped around, getting a face full of her own hair, which she brushed away, just as the sound of the wind turned into the wheezing, groaning sound she had heard before.

On a deserted street corner, about ten yards in front of her, a blue Police box was materialising and Rose’s mouth dropped open. With a firm thud, the box solidified into existence. The door opened and the Doctor stepped out, glancing around in slight confusion. His eyes found Rose and he looked even more confused. 

“Rose?” he asked.

“Doctor,” said Rose, as she walked toward him without even realising. He looked exactly the same as the last time she had seen him, down to his old-fashioned Edwardian clothes. The cold didn’t seem to bother him, despite only wearing that green velvet frockcoat over his clothes. “What are you doing here?”

“By here, I assume this is Oxford,” he said, glancing around. “I admit, it’s been some time since I last visited.”

“You didn’t know where you landed your ship? Your ship that travels in space and time?” asked Rose, amused more than anything.

“Of course, that is half the fun,” he grinned, and it still made Rose’s stomach swoop. It seemed that despite almost a year passing since their first meeting, he still managed to have the same effect on her. 

“What brings you here?” asked Rose, in an effort to dispel the sudden nervousness she felt.

“A mystery, of sorts,” he said, and then grinned in that charming, boyish manner that Rose knew was definitely bad for her heart. He reached into his coat and pulled out a beautifully ornate hourglass the size of his palm, with orange grains of sand that were sifting slowly into the bottom chamber of the hourglass.

“What is it?” asked Rose, mesmerised by the way the sand was falling. She knew it was definitely not of Earth, or at least, the Earth of this time.

“It’s a replica I purchased at the gift shop from the Museum of Temporal Wonders on Platform Meridian Dot Six belonging to the Fawn Conglomerate in the 55th century,” he said. “The original piece was named the Saffron Span and said to be around 6 foot tall.”

“Said to be? The original isn’t in the Museum?” asked Rose.

“No,” he said. “Which is the mystery, you see.”

“How so?” asked Rose.  
“My memory tells me the original is kept at the Museum of Temporal Wonders. Except when I visited the museum earlier today, it was no longer there,” he said. “Stranger still, no one remembered the original ever being there.”

“But they still sell the replicas in the gift shop?” asked Rose. 

“Yes, and when I asked, I was told that the replica was made from historical descriptions because the original has not been seen for over two hundred years,” he said.

“How is that possible?” asked Rose.

“It usually wouldn’t be,” he said. “Unless, someone has interfered.”

“Interfered?” asked Rose.

“Changed history,” said the Doctor. “Changed something in the past and it led to an entirely different future.”

“Right,” said Rose. “So someone interfered in the past in a way that the original Saffron Span never made it to the museum,” she surmised. “What does that have to do with Oxford?”

“Ah,” said the Doctor. “The thing about interfering with time is that it leaves its marks in the fabric of reality. And you need only look to find a trail.”

“A trail that led you here?” asked Rose.

“It did,” he said. 

“How is that possible?” asked Rose. “You said the Saffron Span is from the 55th century.”

“It is,” he said. “Well, to be precise, it was in the museum in the 55th century. It was originally created toward the end of the 48th century using the dust from the deserts of Venus.” He paused and looked at Rose. “Has anything unusual happened lately?”

Rose wasn’t sure what the expression on her face was, because the Doctor’s eyebrows shot up and he chuckled before nodding toward the TARDIS. “How about some tea?” he offered.

With a smile, Rose nodded and followed him as he led her inside. She had been too caught up in her shock the last time she had been inside the TARDIS, so this time she used the opportunity to glance around properly. The interior was really impressive and the gothic sitting room was warm and welcoming after the dismal weather outside. There was a roaring fire in the grate and as Rose eased off her scarf, gloves, hat and coat, she felt the chill start to leave her bones.

The Doctor had disappeared further inside the TARDIS and she knew she would have to ask him just how big the TARDIS really was. His absence did give her a chance to snoop a little, and she ran her eyes along the books on the nearby bookshelves, recognising some classics but nothing else otherwise. There was a record player that was currently not playing anything, and a paperback copy of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein left bookmarked next to it. Rose supposed the large wing-backed armchair near the little end table was the Doctor’s. There wasn’t a second armchair, so Rose took a seat on a nearby chaise, glad that it was closer to the fire.

A few moments passed but the Doctor emerged with a full tray of tea and biscuits. He smiled when he saw she had made herself comfortable and set the tray down. “How do you take your tea?” he asked.

“Milk and one sugar, please,” she said. “I can pour, if you’d like.”

“Nonsense, whoever heard of making their guest pour their own tea,” he said, as he expertly fixed her a cup of tea.

“Thank you,” smiled Rose, accepting the cup. She noticed he made his with just lemon, before sitting back in his armchair. She took a sip and almost sighed as the warmth coursed through her. There really was nothing better than a good cup of tea.

“So, tell me, Rose,” he said, between sips of his own tea. “What has been unusual around Oxford lately?”

Rose wondered where to begin, but then decided to start from the events of the Ashmolean. The Doctor was shocked but not surprised that artefacts belonging to the Titans had been masquerading as genuine Ancient Greek artefacts, though Rose hadn’t known he could look as frightening as he did when she described what Caroline had done. 

There was something inhuman about the Doctor, Rose was realising, as she spoke. He didn’t interrupt her story, apart from occasionally asking questions. He seemed to remember the littlest detail of what she had said and he barely even moved as she finished her story. Despite appearing completely human, there was something terrifying about him; even moreso than Violet or even Etain. 

And yet, Rose wondered why she felt none of the wariness that she had felt around Violet or Etain. Even Lia had made her feel uncertain, the gone but never forgotten Lady in Gold that she was. She knew the Doctor surpassed all of them in a way she wouldn’t be able to articulate but she didn’t feel the same apprehension around him that she did with the rest. There must definitely be something wrong with her, deduced Rose as she set her empty cup back down on the tray.

“Well,” said the Doctor, after a heavy silence. “You have certainly had an eventful term.”

Rose chuckled. “You could say so,” she said, and then remembered the look of disdain on his face when she’d mentioned Etain. “Do you know much about fairies?”

He scowled; the expression almost childish on his handsome face. “Of all the species on this planet, they are the ones I cannot bear to tolerate,” he said. “Frightful little things, twisted and cruel beyond comparison.”

“Humans are no better,” said Rose. “Besides, good and evil are universal concepts, not limited to species.”

“Not always,” he said darkly, and something in his tone made her want to shiver despite the chill from earlier having completely disappeared. “Though I suppose it is unfair of me to class fairies as evil. They are tricky, but ultimately, nothing more than a menace.”

“Are there truly evil species?” asked Rose, unable to help it. His tone earlier had been final; as if he were declaring a truth he would not be questioned on, but it only made her want to ask it more.

He looked at her, and Rose wondered what he saw because he held her gaze for far longer than he had before. “Yes,” he answered finally, the firelight making shadows flicker in his eyes. “Creatures of pure hate with nothing but destruction on their minds. An entire race hellbent on exterminating the universe of all but themselves.”

This time, Rose did shiver, and suddenly the Doctor’s eyes lost the hard edge and he smiled, as if he meant to apologise. “As for fairies,” he said. “They are quite powerful, and their magic as they call it allows them to bend reality to their will. But only to a very limited extent. And their downfall, as it may be, is that their existence is intrinsically bound to your planet.”

“Meaning what?” asked Rose, a sense of dread filling her being.

He smiled almost sadly. “It means that while humans will evolve and grow and touch the stars and bend reality to their will, the fairies will grow weaker behind their curtain, dying slowly alongside the planet.”

“That’s…” Rose couldn’t even say what it was, but the Doctor seemed to understand.

“Cruel, I know,” he said. “It is the existence they have chosen for themselves, though. It’s funny, you know. Time has a way of making even the most powerful beings weary. It’s why civilisations across the universe, from tribes in backwater lands to advanced societies have gods and deities.”

“Because the gods and deities created their world and then left when they grew tired of it?” asked Rose.

He didn’t nod or agree with her words in any way, but the smile on his face told her she had hit the nail right on the head.

“That’s cruel, too,” she said, and then chuckled. “I sound like a child.”

“No, Rose,” he said, and the smile he gave her made her feel warmer than the cosy sitting room, the roaring fireplace or the hot tea. “You sound like you have hope. Hope that people may choose better for themselves and those around them. And hope, my dear Rose, hope is something you will find is the rarest of treasures in the universe.”

Rose didn’t quite know what to say to that and she dearly wished she hadn’t finished her tea so she could have at least used the moment to take a sip and not have to answer. The Doctor gave her a considerate look before he shot to his feet, startling her a little.

“Well then,” he said, heading over to the console. “Let’s try and see what else we can find, shall we?”

Rose stood up and followed him, stopping a few feet away from the console. “Can I ask something?” she asked, as the Doctor read something on one of the screens on the console.

“Certainly,” he said, without looking away from the screen.

“I understand that history is changed because of the Saffron Span,” she said, trying to articulate what had been bothering her about the whole thing. “But surely, that’s not weird.” The Doctor looked at her with a slightly inquisitive gaze and Rose knew she had to clarify. “History changing because of events happening differently, I mean. People making different choices and changing the future.”

He grinned. “Very good, Rose,” he said, and she knew it would have sounded condescending coming from anyone but him. “Yes, time is in flux. Ordinarily, I would not be too fussed about an artefact. Except for the fact that the Saffron Span is not an ordinary artefact.” He flicked a switch on the console. “The Museum of Temporal Wonders houses quite a few artefacts collected from civilisations who have mastered time travel. Well, I say mastered, but what I mean is they have had some measure of success. The only race to have successfully mastered time travel is...my own, I suppose.”

“The Time Lords?” asked Rose, remembering he had told her he was a Time Lord the first time they had met.

He nodded. “Other races have been successful, of course. But not to the extent that Time Lords have,” he said. “And if history is to be believed, none of the races succeeded until Time Lords lended their assistance.”

Rose thought that sounded rather self-important but held her tongue. “Whose history would that be?” she still couldn’t help but ask.

He laughed instead of taking offence like she had half-expected. “The point remains, the Saffron Span is one of the more important artefacts as far as the history of time travel is concerned,” he said.

“Why?” asked Rose.

“It formed the basis for humanity mastering time travel,” he said, without missing a beat.

Rose stared at him, as if expecting him to laugh and say he was joking. “Humans master time travel?” she asked finally, when he didn’t say anything further.

“Of course,” he said, smiling warmly. “You should give your race more credit, Rose.”

Rose felt suitably chastised, though she was sure that had not been his intention. Despite knowing Jack was a time traveller, she had assumed it was alien technology that had allowed it. It had never occurred to her that humans would master time travel, and if the Doctor was telling the truth (and she had no reason to think otherwise) they had to set this right. “W-we have to find out what happened then,” she said, more determined than ever.

The Doctor looked amused, but nodded. “Let’s be on our way then,” he said, reaching back toward the console.

“We’re going somewhere?” asked Rose, confused. “I thought the trail led you to Oxford.”

“It did, but I miscalculated slightly,” he admitted. “The trail leads to the same place but a year ago.”

Rose blinked as the rotor sprang to life and the familiar wheezing noise filled the console room. “We’re travelling through time?” she asked.

“We are,” he grinned. “Because I just remembered that we are in the early 21st century and one of the greatest minds of your time is currently at Oxford.”

“Who?” asked Rose, but before the Doctor could answer, the TARDIS landed with a thud.

“Come on,” said the Doctor, striding toward the doors. Rose turned back to grab her coat and followed after him. She was putting on the coat and following only a few paces behind the Doctor, but stopped when she heard a familiar voice. Rose stopped and glanced in the direction of the voice.

Des, the friendly bartender, who had also been the one to point her to Dame’s Delight, was talking on his phone as he walked past. He looked the same as he did, and he thankfully didn’t notice Rose who quickly ducked out of sight. She knew they had definitely time travelled because it was broad daylight outside, although it was the same street. The place was a bit busier and Des was one of several students walking past.

Rose didn’t know much about time travel but she knew it would be a bad idea if she were to be seen by someone who knew her. To her surprise, however, the Doctor seemed to be heading directly to Des, which left her with little choice but to remain out of sight but close enough so that she could hear what was being said.

“Pardon me,” said the Doctor, and Des stopped. “Could I have a quick word with you?”

“I’ll call you back,” Des told the person on the other end and ended the call. Even from her hiding place (which was the mouth of the alleyway where the TARDIS had arrived) Rose could see the confusion on Des’ face as he took in the Doctor’s appearance.

“Are you Desmond Coughlan?” asked the Doctor, either not realising Des’ confusion or just ignoring it.

“Yeah,” he answered, warily.

“Excellent, it is an honour to meet you,” said the Doctor, looking pleased as a punch.

“Right, sure,” said Des, looking like he wanted nothing better than to escape.

Rose supposed from his perspective an odd Edwardian dandy had just accosted him and announced it was an honour to meet him. She was sure she would do the same if it happened to her.

“What is your area of research?” asked the Doctor. “For your doctoral studies, I mean.”

“Pardon?” asked Des, confused. “How did-?”

“Please, indulge my curiosity,” said the Doctor.

Des gave him an uncertain look before shrugging. “I dunno,” he said. “I haven’t decided yet. I am on my way to meet with my thesis supervisor now.”

“But do you know what you will be choosing?” the Doctor persisted.

“I suppose,” said Des, doubtfully. The Doctor seemed to be looking at him expectantly and Des sighed. “I mean, I will probably end up choosing one of the Theory projects.”

“But that isn’t what you really want to do,” said the Doctor, like it was a fact.

Des stared at him. “How did you know that?” he asked.

“Just a hunch,” said the Doctor. “So, what is it that you really want to choose?”

Des sighed again and he seemed like he was weighing up his options. “I suppose if I could choose what I really wanted...” he paused and looked at the Doctor as if he would laugh at him, but the Doctor just kept looking at him expectantly. “...I would choose one of the Galaxy projects. In all likelihood the one about Supermassive Black Holes.”

The Doctor beamed at him. “That sounds exciting to me,” he said. “And to you, which is more important.”

Des shook his head. “You don’t understand,” he said. “It’s...what I want, yes. But it’s not really a safe career path. The Theory is boring, yes, but there’s the possibility of a job in academia. Research into black holes is a lifelong endeavour. There is so much to learn…” 

Even from this distance, Rose could positively see his eyes glowing and she was surprised because she’d had no idea Des felt so passionately about his studies. He always came across as so cheerful and sure of himself and even through the limited interactions she’d had with him, Rose had thought him to be a very easygoing person.

“Your path is your own, of course,” said the Doctor, when it seemed like Des wouldn’t continue. “Good luck, then.” He turned to leave and Des looked shocked.

“That’s it?” asked Des.

The Doctor stopped and turned back. “Was there supposed to be something else?” he asked. “I wanted to know what you were going to choose and you answered that you were choosing the sensible option over what you truly wanted.”

Des looked annoyed at that, and the Doctor waved at him and walked back toward Rose. She could see Des glare a bit before he continued walking. 

“What’d you do that for?” asked Rose, when the Doctor returned.

He just smiled at her and walked back into the TARDIS. Rose gave him an annoyed look but followed after him.

The Doctor went over to the console and flipped a few switches. One of the screens beeped and he grinned widely when he read whatever was on it.

“What?” asked Rose, when she saw him beaming at the screen. “What are you grinning for?”

“That, Rose Tyler, was history just snapping back on track,” he said.

“How? By talking to Des?” she asked.

“You know him?” asked the Doctor, looking pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah, he’s at Hertford too,” said Rose. Then she remembered what he had told her. “It was Des?” she asked. “One of the greatest minds of my time?”

“Of course,” he said. “He becomes the foremost authority on black holes in the 21st century and forms the basis for your space travel leaping forward by a century at the very least.”

“B-but he just said he won’t be studying black holes anymore,” said Rose.

“He never said that,” said the Doctor, smiling mysteriously. 

Rose realised he was right. The Doctor has been uncharacteristically flippant with his departing remark about choosing the sensible option. “He changed his mind?” she asked, even though she knew the answer.

“Apparently so,” said the Doctor, nodding at the screen. 

“B-but that’s…” said Rose, and then closed her mouth. She couldn’t help but think of Lia who had done something similar to Rose. Interfered in her life and nudged her in a different direction than what she had been headed down. Rose wouldn’t go as far as to say that Lia had pushed her down the path because the choice had ultimately been Rose’s, just as Des had apparently made his own choice. “Is that allowed?” she finally asked.

The Doctor seemed to understand what she was getting at. “Strictly speaking, no,” he admitted. “But occasionally, it is a Time Lord’s prerogative to nudge timelines back into place.”

“Do you know Aurelia?” blurted out Rose. “She goes by Lia sometimes.”

The Doctor blinked at her in confusion. “I cannot say I do,” he said. “Who is that?”

Rose just shook her head, disappointed. She had thought that Lia was perhaps another Time Lord, given what the Doctor had just said. “What did Des’ research have to do with the Saffron Span?”

The Doctor gave her a look when she changed the subject but she was glad he didn’t push the issue. “His research will allow for safe expeditions to Venus,” he answered, as he started piloting the TARDIS again. 

Rose nodded, remembering he’d told her the sand in the Saffron Span came from Venus. She waited in contemplative silence as the Doctor took them back to Rose’s time, and when the TARDIS landed, she was shaken out of her thoughts.

The Doctor was giving her a searching look. “Are you alright, Rose?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she answered. “I just...I don’t know what to say to Des when I see him again.”

The Doctor fixed her with a stern look. “You cannot tell him, Rose,” he said. “There is a responsibility that goes hand in hand with time travel.”

“I know I can see that,” she said. “It’s why I stayed hidden.” The Doctor nodded, but didn’t look convinced. “I’m not going to mess it up,” she insisted. “Not when it comes to one of the most important people in the history of humanity.”

The Doctor chuckled slightly. “I’m glad to hear it, Rose, but you’re wrong about one thing,” he said. “Desmond Coughlan might be one of the greatest minds of your time but he is not more important than anyone else in the universe.”

Rose blinked at him before shaking her head. “Now that’s just a lie,” she said.

“It is not,” he said firmly, with such authority in his voice that Rose could only stare at him. “In all my travels across time and space, I have never met anyone who wasn’t important.”

She could find no trace of dishonesty in his tone and slowly, Rose nodded. It was a bit humbling, she realised. There had been a part of her that had been worried about the reason for Lia appearing in her life when she had, but somehow the Doctor saying that had made that weight loosen in her chest. Rose Tyler was no more important than anyone else and while it might have disappointed some people, Rose was elated. 

She beamed at the Doctor and surprised them both by giving him a hug. “Thank you, Doctor,” she said, a bit pink in the face when she pulled away.

The Doctor was staring at her in shock, but he seemed to shake it off only a moment later as he smiled at her. “Of course, though I’m not sure what that was for,” he said.

Rose just shook her head instead of answering. “I should go,” she said. 

“Right, yes,” said the Doctor, and if Rose had not been mistaken, there had been a brief look of disappointment on his face that was gone so fast that she wondered if she had imagined it.

Rose gave him a wave and walked toward the doors of the TARDIS. When she opened them, she was shocked to see Miranda standing outside. Miranda was staring at the box with a look of abject shock, and when she noticed Rose, she clasped a hand to her mouth.

“Oh,” said Rose, wondering how she could explain this one away. She stepped out slowly and heard the Doctor step out after her.

Miranda’s eyes drifted to the Doctor and her shock only seemed to grow.

“Miranda,” said Rose, and she jumped. “It’s alright.”

Miranda looked at Rose, still looking utterly shocked. “Wh-”

Rose smiled at her gently like she was a spooked animal. “This is the Doctor,” she said. “He’s...a friend of mine.”

That seemed to snap Miranda out of her shock. “A friend?” she asked, and then fumbled with her ring subconsciously. She walked up to them in slow steps, and stopped near Rose, though her eyes were looking at the Doctor with a look of disbelief and an emotion Rose could not name if she tried.

To Rose’s surprise, the Doctor was staring at Miranda with a look of confusion and disbelief as well. “Miranda, is it?” he asked, frowning. “Have we met before?”

Miranda shook her head vigorously, curly blonde hair moving with the gesture. “N-no,” she said.

“Strange,” said the Doctor, and looked at Rose. “Friend of yours?”

“Yes,” said Rose. “Doctor, this is Miranda Dawkins.”

The Doctor narrowed his blue eyes slightly but his face cleared the very next moment and he gave her a charming, polite smile. “Very nice to meet you, Miranda. I apologise if my entrance shocked you,” he said.

“No, yes, I mean no,” she said, and Rose was reminded of the first time they had met. Miranda had become much more comfortable around her since then, but it was as if meeting the Doctor had regressed her back into that nervous girl she had met in October. “How did-?”

“It’s a long story,” said Rose. “I’ll tell you all about it later, if you’d like?” She glanced back at the Doctor to see if he’d object but he seemed as if he were deep in thought. “Thanks for the lift back, Doctor.”

The Doctor blinked out of his reverie and smiled at Rose. “Of course,” he said. “Until next time, Rose Tyler.” He glanced at Miranda and he nodded once at her.

Miranda nodded back, and fidgeted with her ring nervously. The Doctor stepped back into the TARDIS and Rose stood beside Miranda as the TARDIS vanished slowly with that wheezing sound. Miranda looked at Rose when it had vanished completely and Rose sighed and linked her arm with hers.

“Come on,” said Rose, pulling her in the direction of their floor. “I’ll make tea.”


	9. The Alabaster Lace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for missing an update last week. Work has been very busy and my city went into full lockdown which killed my motivation like you would not believe. I am back now, though!

Rose finished writing the journal entry about her latest encounter with the Doctor and closed the journal with a thump. She had been back in London for three days already, but hadn’t had time to write down the adventure of the Saffron Span until now. The explanation to Miranda had taken a while, and then they had returned to London as the Michaelmas Term came to an end. Once back in London, Rose had been busy unpacking in her room at Miranda’s townhouse, and then visiting her mum, Mickey, Shareen and River at various points, leaving her with virtually no free time.

She glanced at the time and frowned. She had work in an hour, so she put her journal away and grabbed her satchel before going downstairs. Miranda was in the kitchen with a large mug of coffee and a table full of papers filled with complex equations that might as well have been in an alien language for all the sense they made to Rose. Miranda waved absently without looking up as Rose called out a good morning.

“Got any plans for the day?” asked Rose, as she poured herself some coffee.

Miranda shrugged lightly. “Your mother invited me to go Christmas shopping with her,” she said, unable to help the small smile on her face.

Rose hid her smile in her cup of coffee. She had introduced Miranda to her mother and Jackie had immediately taken a liking to her. Upon learning Miranda had recently lost her parents, Jackie had invited Miranda to spend Christmas with them, and taken it upon herself to mother the poor girl. Rose would have almost felt bad, except Miranda seemed quite delighted by the turn of events and it took Jackie’s attention off of Rose. Not completely, of course, but it was divided between her and Miranda. Rose supposed this is what it was like to have siblings.

“Have fun,” said Rose. “Don’t let her bully you into staying out longer than you feel comfortable.”

“I don’t mind,” said Miranda, and she could tell from her face that she meant it. “Are you going to work soon?”

“Yes,” said Rose, finishing her coffee. “If you’re still in town when I’m done, let me know. I’ve yet to introduce you to River, so we could go out for drinks.”

Miranda nodded eagerly. “I would like that,” she said.

“Great,” grinned Rose, as she put her cup in the sink. “See you later.”

“Bye,” waved Miranda, as Rose left the little Edwardian townhouse and walked up the street to catch the bus to Luna Detective Agency.

River was busy sorting through a pile of mail when Rose arrived. “Morning,” greeted Rose. “Anything interesting?”

“Nothing so far,” said River, tossing it to the side. “Some bills and junk mail.” She smiled at Rose. “Are you settled in yet?”

“Yeah, as much as I can be,” said Rose. “I thought it’d be weird living in a new place but it’s nice. I’m ready to work now, though.”

River grinned. “Excellent,” she said, and then opened a drawer to pull out a little black envelope. “Our first assignment.”

“What is it?” asked Rose with interest. River handed her the envelope and Rose admired the obviously expensive envelope and opened it to find an invitation. “A masquerade ball?”

River nodded. “Lady Clement is a widow and she has donated generously to my most recent expedition,” she said. “I am obligated to attend but I thought you’d enjoy it. It’s on the day before Christmas Eve so it shouldn’t interrupt any of your plans with your mum.”

“You don’t have to convince me,” said Rose, noting the event was to be held at the Great Hall in the Queen’s House. Rose had never been there, of course, but knew it was one of the best venues in town. “Not sure if I have anything appropriate to wear, though,” she added, noting it was a black tie affair.

“I’ll be hiring a gown for the occasion and I’m sure you can do the same,” said River, and Rose nodded. She could afford to spend some of her savings, now that she didn’t have to worry too much about paying for university.

“Not that I’m not excited but this isn’t technically work, is it?” asked Rose.

River gave her a slightly exasperated look. “You are allowed to take time for yourself and enjoy it, you know,” she said. “From the sound of things, your first term at Oxford was anything but relaxing.”

Rose inclined her head in agreement. “What are your plans for Christmas, River?” she decided to ask instead of rehashing her first term at Oxford. She had given River the basics, including the second meeting with the Doctor, though she had not mentioned the Butterflies to anyone yet, not even River or Miranda.

“I’m visiting my parents,” answered River, and Rose nodded. It was what River had done for past Christmases too. River’s parents were apparently living in New York, and despite the fact that River didn’t say much about them, Rose always got the distinct impression she was quite close to her parents. “We’ll close the shop on the 22nd and reopen after New Years’.”

Rose nodded again. “So, what are we doing today?” she asked.

River smiled and nodded toward the back room. “Artefacts from my latest expeditions need authenticating,” she said. “Would you like to join me?”

Rose grinned. “Of course I would,” she said. “As if you even need to ask.”

~

River supposed there were certain disadvantages to being a time traveller. For one, you never quite met people in the right order, especially if the people she met were time travellers as well. Unfortunately for River, her life was filled with them.

So she could not be blamed if it occasionally caught her off-guard. Meeting people in the wrong order, that is.

She still remembered the first time she had met Rose Tyler and the first time Rose Tyler had met her. Two separate events, of course, but no less memorable. 

It was jarring to meet someone for the first time when you had known them for so long. River wasn’t sure how careful she had managed to be with her expressions when a sixteen-year old Rose Tyler had walked through the doors of her shop, but given the time that had passed since then, River could at least feel that she had not tripped up too badly and even if she had, Rose had not noticed.

So the day River met Miranda Dawkins, she knew she had to be just as careful. Miranda looked younger than River had ever seen her, and her curly blonde hair was only at shoulder-length instead of the flowing hair River remembered. There was a certain youthfulness in her features but more importantly, her eyes were bright and new, unburdened by the responsibilities she would carry one day.

_It was sad, really_ , thought River as she sat across from Rose and Miranda at a little bar in Piccadilly, _watching someone when they were so young and unaware of things to come_.

“That’s a beautiful ring,” said River, realising she had been silent a moment too long. 

Miranda followed her gaze and smiled down at the sapphire ring on her finger. “Thank you,” she said. “My...mother gave it to me.”

_That would make sense_ , thought River as she took a sip of her drink instead of saying something. Overprotective lot, those parents of hers. She dearly longed to examine the ring further, to work out exactly what it was. Especially considering the fact that the Doctor had come face to face with Miranda at Oxford and hadn’t realised…

“Another round?” asked Rose, and River quickly finished her drink before nodding.

Rose grinned at them and left the table. River forced herself to adopt a neutral smile as she turned to Miranda.

“How are you finding Oxford, Miranda?” she asked.

“What are you?”

River blinked at the blunt question from Miranda. Her eyes were locked onto River’s, and despite the youthfulness she had previously observed, it was currently nowhere to be found. Miranda looked...well, she looked like the way River remembered her.

Strong, unyielding, powerful...a force unparalleled in the universe.

River forced herself to take a breath. “I have to be careful,” she said, instead.

Miranda’s eyes turned hard as steel. “I am not a fool,” she said, her tone sharp. “I know exactly how careful I have to be as well.”

River looked suitably chastised. “I know, I didn't mean to imply…” she began but then shut her mouth. “I am sorry, Miranda.”

Miranda’s demeanour softened and she glanced toward the bar, probably to make sure Rose was still far enough away. “Whose orders are you following?” she demanded, in a low, furious voice.

River took a deep breath. “Your mother’s,” she said.

Miranda seemed to deflate at that. “And how do I know you to be telling the truth?” she asked.

“You don’t,” said River, honestly. “But I believe my actions speak louder than words.”

Miranda looked annoyed but didn’t argue the point. “Is she...are they…?” She stopped and took a breath before continuing. “They are alive?”

“Here we are!”

River blinked and turned to smile at Rose as she set three glasses down on the little table. How she had managed to carry all three, she had no idea.

“What’s with the sombre faces?” laughed Rose, as she looked at them.

“Nothing, just talking about university,” said River, smoothly. She chanced a glance at Miranda who seemed to withdraw back into that young girl as she smiled gratefully at Rose for the drink. River took a sip of her own drink and realised she didn’t envy Miranda’s position. It was difficult for River, of course, but Miranda’s situation was far different.

“What drink is this?” asked Miranda, looking at Rose with bright, curious eyes.

_At least some things didn’t change_ , thought River, as Rose described what an espresso martini was. 

“How was shopping with my mother?” asked Rose, smiling at Miranda with apparent sympathy.

“It was fun,” nodded Miranda, and River could see she was being sincere. “Jackie is...not what I imagined and she is very nice.”

River sipped her drink to avoid doing something embarrassing like snorting out loud. 

“That’s good that you think that,” laughed Rose. “If only it were true.”

River didn’t participate much in conversation that evening, content to sip her drink and watch Rose and Miranda converse with a familiar ease. After a while, River found herself wishing it was over soon, because she could not bear it any longer. She wanted to be able to speak with them without having to hold herself back, and it was not easy. 

As if Miranda had known what she was thinking, she let out a huge yawn. Immediately, Rose said they should call it a night and River couldn’t help but smile gratefully at Miranda. She knew Miranda had to have done it on purpose, because of, well, the obvious.

Out in the cold night air, River took a moment to let the chill seep into her bones to wash away the stuffiness of the crowded bar. Rose was hailing a cab and River thought she ought to assist her, but Miranda gave her a look meant to say she wanted to continue their conversation from before.

“You know my mother well?” asked Miranda, keeping her voice low so that Rose couldn’t hear it.

River nodded. “And your father too,” she said.

“And me?” asked Miranda.

River sighed before answering. “Not as well as I know your parents,” she said, truthfully.

“But you know who I am,” insisted Miranda.

“Yes,” said River, as a cab stopped in front of Rose. Rose grinned triumphantly and beckoned them.

“You won’t say anything.” Miranda’s parting words made River shiver and not because of the cold. It wasn’t a request or even an observation. Miranda’s words had been an order; plain and simple, befitting her mantle.

“Of course,” murmured River, as she followed after her toward Rose. “Your Eminence.”

~

Rose supposed she was unsurprised things turned out this way. A fancy masquerade ball sounded all well and good but it was just so...boring. She certainly felt pretty enough in a strapless silver gown with a sparkling sequined bodice and a full-length gauzy skirt, as well as the carved metal mask in silver, but the entire party was full of posh stuffed shirts and entirely too glamorous women. The conversations were so completely out of Rose’s wheelhouse that she had found a nice corner with a glass of champagne and was content to listen to the orchestral music and watch various people on the dancefloor.

“Rose,” said River, as she walked up to her. “There you are. Come, let me introduce you to the hostess.”

Rose forced a smile on her face and went with River who led her to a dark-haired middle-aged woman in a beautiful royal blue gown with a mask of peacock feathers on her face. Standing beside her was a younger woman with strawberry blonde hair in a severe dress of black velvet with a high collar and full sleeves, and a plain white mask around her eyes. 

“Lady Clement, this is my employee, Miss Rose Tyler,” said River, addressing the woman in blue. “She is on break from Oxford.”

“Oh, how lovely,” said Lady Clement, with a wide smile. “How do you do, Miss Tyler?”

“Very well, thank you,” said Rose, politely.

“This is my daughter, Helene,” said Lady Clement, nodding toward the woman in black.

“Stepdaughter, actually,” corrected Helene. “But Rosalind has been the only mother I have known.” Lady Clement smiled warmly at Helene and Rose rather thought Helene’s smile had been equally as warm. “It’s very nice to meet you, Miss Tyler. Please enjoy the party.”

“Thank you,” smiled Rose.

“You must excuse us,” said Helene, smiling as she saw someone past Rose’s shoulder. “It’s Eva and Jonah,” she told Lady Clement. “We should go say hello.”

Lady Clement’s smile turned pinched but she nodded. “Excuse us, please,” she said, as she and Helene went over to a woman who had strawberry blonde hair identical to Helene’s, but she was dressed in a light lavender gown with a mask of plain white. Helene went over and gave her a hug and then hugged the man in the tuxedo next to her, while Lady Clement gave them both a slightly forced smile.

“Pardon me.”

Rose’s attention was diverted as a man in a tuxedo wearing a beautiful gold mask approached River and held out his hand. “Would you like to dance?” he asked her.

River glanced at Rose, but Rose just smiled. “Don’t mind me,” said Rose, holding up the nearly empty glass of champagne in her hand. “I’m just going to get another drink.”

“Alright,” said River, and then placed her hand in the man’s hand so he could lead her to the dancefloor.

Rose finished her drink and walked over to one of the tables by the wall to get another one. She caught a flash of forest green swinging past on the dancefloor and sighed. River blended in with this posh crowd so easily that Rose couldn’t help but envy her. 

It wasn’t often that Rose felt out of place but she certainly did with this crowd. Most of the people here were not too different from people she knew at Oxford but Rose hadn’t had trouble fitting into Oxford. Oxford was so vast and varied that she supposed everyone carved out a place for themselves. She was grateful for that, at the very least. Rose sighed again and finished the glass of champagne, faster than she probably should have.

She had to learn this, she supposed. A life of academia was all well and good but Rose knew she wanted to be able to have her own adventures and go on her own expeditions, and be able to handle the social aspects of mingling with different crowds. There was no point in being a wallflower, if she wanted to be a respected professional in her field someday.

One of the waiters stopped in front of her and held out his tray. Rose placed her empty glass on the tray absently, still lost in her thoughts.

“Could I fetch you some hors d'oeuvres, Miss?” he asked, his voice smooth and devoid of any emotion whatsoever.

“No, thanks,” said Rose, having lost her appetite.

“Very well, Miss,” he said, and turned to leave. Rose fidgeted with her mask, hissing slightly when she cut her finger on the pointy metal edge of the mask. She looked at her finger and noticed the tiny bead of blood. Before she could even put her finger in her mouth, she suddenly realised that it had gone entirely silent.

Rose looked up and gasped out loud in shock when she noticed that the entire ballroom had frozen in time. The dancers were still mid-swing, people were frozen mid-conversation, and the music had stopped entirely.

“Where is it?”

Rose jumped as the waiter from earlier, apparently the only one apart from Rose not frozen in time, was looking around. What shocked her even more though, was that he looked excited rather than scared or shocked. His eyes fell on Rose and then he noticed her bleeding finger.

“Oh,” he frowned, and rolled his eyes. “False alarm, I guess.”

Rose gaped at him. “W-what?” was the only thing she could say. 

“I jumped the metaphorical gun,” he said, pouting dramatically. “Oh well,” he shrugged. He clicked his fingers, and the ballroom was in motion once again. “See you around.”

Rose blinked a few times and then took off after him. “Hang on,” she said, grabbing his elbow.

He stopped and gave her a slightly irritated look. “Oh, right,” he said. “Should have dealt with your memory.”

“What are you?” asked Rose, ignoring the last part.

He sighed, looking very annoyed. “Even if I were to tell you, it’s not like you would understand,” he said.

“Try me,” said Rose.

He rolled his eyes again but then gave Rose a thoughtful look. She hadn’t really noticed his appearance before, but she realised he was of Asian descent, at least 6 feet tall, lean and with neatly cut black hair. His eyes, however, were an unusual shade of grey, almost silver. Like the rest of the waiters, he was wearing a plain black mask covering his eyes.

Rose realised he was also observing her as she was him. Whatever he saw, made the corners of his lips tilt up into a small smile.

“I suppose you will understand,” he said.

“Wh-what…?” Rose started to ask but he took off his mask and stuffed it into his trouser pockets.

“I am known as Euphoria,” he said. “It is one of the many names I carry, but I think it is the most apt one for me,” he added, with a bright beaming smile, and Rose was taken aback at the genuineness of the smile. He did have a very strikingly handsome face with high cheekbones, and the unusual colour of his eyes suited his face well. “Lower beings such as you hardly even notice me.”

“Who are you calling a lower being?” demanded Rose indignantly, forgetting momentarily that the being before her could literally stop time.

He looked a bit confused. “Oh, I meant no offence,” he said. “All beings are considered lower than where my kind fall in the hierarchy of the universe. There is only one above us, and I trust you are not one of the Guardians.”

Rose had no idea what a Guardian was, but what caught her off guard was that Euphoria wasn’t saying it like he was bragging; rather like it was a fact. 

“So what exactly is your kind?” asked Rose.

He smiled a little. “I am an Eternal,” he said. “We are the oldest beings in the universe, the first ones to come into existence before the universe was even created.”

Rose looked for signs of deception, but there weren’t any. Euphoria had relayed the information like it was fact, devoid of any embellishment or boastfulness. “Why?” she asked, finally.

“Hmm?” he asked, confused.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“Oh, right,” he said. “That’s a good question. How’s your finger?”

Before Rose could blink, he grabbed her hand and blew lightly on her finger. Rose watched in astonishment as the little cut healed instantly, not even leaving a scar behind. Rose glanced around quickly to see if anyone had noticed but no one was paying attention to them.

Euphoria smiled and released her hand. “I am here, because there is to be a murder here tonight,” he said.

Rose raised her eyes to his, but like before, he had said it like it was a fact. “What?” she asked. “Who’s going to be killed?”

“I don’t know, that is the fun part,” he said, and he looked excited again. 

“How is that fun?” demanded Rose. “We have to stop it.”

“Ah, can’t do that,” he shrugged. “I observe. I do not meddle.”

“So you’re here to just watch a murder?” asked Rose.

“I am here to solve a murder,” he corrected.

“Why?” asked Rose.

“Curiosity, boredom, take a pick,” he shrugged.

“Fine, I’ll stop it then,” said Rose.

“You could try but do you think I would have any trouble stopping you?” he asked, and smiled because Rose knew she had no answer to that. “What’s your name?”

“Rose,” she said. “Rose Tyler.”

To her surprise, he suddenly leaned down toward her and inhaled deeply. His eyes fell shut and he chuckled as he opened them and leaned back. 

“You smell like a wolf, Rose Tyler,” he said.

“I do not smell like…” she paused and stared at him. “Why would you say that?”

Euphoria smiled secretively. “You don’t think I blurt out my secrets to just anyone, do you?” he asked, and then chuckled again. “I’ll answer your questions, if you agree to help me.”

“Help you?” she asked. “To solve a murder?”

“Yes,” he said. Just then, the world around them froze once again. Euphoria looked around with excitement. “Do you see it?” he asked.

Rose glanced around absently and noticed Lady Clement, without her mask on, with an annoyed expression on her face as she was led to the dancefloor by the man who had been with Eva. She couldn’t see Eva or Helene, though. “See what?” she asked Euphoria.

“Blood,” he said. “I put in a personal alarm of sorts.”

Rose supposed that was why time had stopped when she had cut her finger. She glanced around the massive hall to see if anyone else was bleeding. 

“There!” she said, grabbing Euphoria’s sleeve.

He followed her gaze and frowned dramatically as one of the waitresses was holding a broken glass and stymying the flow of blood from a cut on her hand. She looked shocked when she saw that everyone was frozen but before Rose could blink, Euphoria had appeared at her side and whispered something to her. The waitress seemed to blink and then time started back up again. The waitress seemed to shake her head before going on her way, no longer bewildered.

“You wiped her memory?” hissed Rose, when Euphoria returned to her side.

“Of course,” he said, like it was obvious. “Like I said, I don’t blurt out my secrets to just anyone.”

Rose had a lot she wanted to say to that but all the lights suddenly went out, plunging them into darkness. 

“Interesting,” she heard Euphoria murmur amidst the chaos of everyone else’s confusion. She felt rather than saw time freezing again at the same moment that the lights came back on, and she had to clap a hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp.

Right in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by frozen partygoers, was the body of Lady Clement, a knife stuck into her back and a length of alabaster lace fashioned into a blindfold around her eyes.

Time started to move again and chaos erupted around the ballroom at the gruesome sight. Rose saw Helene, without her mask on, as she stared down at the body in horror, while Eva was practically in hysterics as she pushed her way through the crowd. She collapsed into the man who had been with her before, and he held her in his arms to keep her on her feet, his face grim.

“Explain to me why you didn’t keep time frozen so we could have investigated,” Rose hissed to Euphoria.

“It takes an enormous amount of strength to hold back the flow of time, even for someone like me,” said Euphoria. “Rest assured, though, it will not stop us from investigating.”

Before Rose could ask how, a man in the crowd whistled sharply and brought everyone’s attention to him. “Everyone, please calm down,” he said, and held up a badge that he had seemingly produced out of nowhere. “I am Inspector Lee of Scotland Yard. Please remain where you are.” 

The outright chaos ceased, though there were murmurs and whispers as all eyes turned to him, including Rose’s. 

“I have notified my team and ordered security to lock the place down,” said Inspector Lee.

“Why?” asked a nearby guest, one of the entirely too self-important ones, judging by the look on his face.

The Inspector held his gaze as he walked toward Lady Clement’s body. 

“The blood is still fresh,” he said, glancing down at the body briefly. “Whoever killed her, is more than likely still here. So until I find out who did this, no one leaves.”

“He is one of mine,” Euphoria whispered to Rose.

“What does that mean?” asked Rose, looking between Euphoria and Inspector Lee. “Is he an Eternal as well?”

“Of course not, he is an ephemeral,” said Euphoria. “But I needed someone who would keep the guests in control with an official investigation while I do some investigating of my own.”

“How is he-?” Rose started to ask but then frowned as she turned to Euphoria. “Are you controlling him?”

“Minor hypnosis,” said Euphoria, appearing unbothered. “He actually is an Inspector from the Yard. Couldn’t believe his luck when he was invited to this event. It’s quite above his pay grade, as one might say.”

It irked her how he talked about people like they were convenient little dolls that he could position in his play. “If you can do that, then why can’t you just hypnotise the killer to confess?” she hissed, without bothering to hide her glare.

Euphoria smiled down at her, an amused gesture full of condescension. “Where is the fun in that?” He grabbed Rose’s hand. “Come on.”

Rose glared at his back as he pulled her along, while Inspector Lee started ordering security around to separate the guests and clear the crime scene. Euphoria pulled her right up to the body and she swallowed back a wave of revulsion.

“Keep the other ephemerals occupied,” Euphoria ordered, and Inspector Lee nodded. “Miss Tyler and I need the room.”

Rose saw River in the crowd, who had pulled off her mask and was looking at Rose in concern. Rose just shook her head, warning her not to interfere. She half-expected River to refuse, but then she nodded and let herself be led away along with the other guests, as the main hall was cleared of everyone, including Inspector Lee and security, leaving only Rose and Euphoria with Lady Clement’s body.

Euphoria knelt next to the body and observed it with a frown. “Quite a brutal attack,” he murmured. “But there’s no hesitation. It was a single stab wound, straight to the heart, that killed the victim.”

“Rosalind,” said Rose.

“What?” he asked.

“Not ‘victim’. Her name was Rosalind Clement,” she snapped.

Euphoria looked a bit confused. “I know that,” he said.

“Never mind,” said Rose, shaking her head. She crossed her arms and frowned at Euphoria as he continued to examine the body. “Are all Eternals like you?”

“Hmm, no,” he answered, absently. “I am considered faulty by most of my kind.”

“Why?” asked Rose.

He glanced up at her and smiled. “Because I am able to express emotions like ephemerals,” he said.

Rose just stared at him. If he was the faulty one because of the way he expressed emotions, she never wanted to know what kind of unemotional beings the rest of the Eternals were. 

“So, are you an alien?” she asked, still determined to know more. 

“Yes and no,” he said. 

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“I am not of this planet, but my kind originated before any planets were ever created so we are aliens to all worlds, but not,” he explained, and then frowned at the body. “The lights weren’t off long enough for her to be killed and then to be blindfolded with lace.”

Rose knew that was true; the lights had only been off for a few seconds. “Not to mention, the blindfold is tied wrong,” she said, which was something that had been bothering her since she had seen the body.

“How so?” asked Euphoria.

“It’s knotted at the front, not the back,” she pointed out, and then frowned as she knelt down as well. “What if it happened at the same time?” she asked, as a picture started to form in her mind. “Her being killed and blindfolded, I mean,” she clarified, when Euphoria looked confused.

“It’s possible,” he said. “But that means…”

“There were two people who did this,” said Rose, meeting his gaze. “One who stabbed her from behind and the other who blindfolded her at the same time.”

“Or, there were three,” said Euphoria. 

“Three?” asked Rose. “Who is the third one?”

“The one who turned out the lights,” he said, like it was obvious.

“Right,” said Rose. “Do you know much about Lady Clement’s family?”

“Give me a moment,” he said, and closed his eyes. About five seconds passed and he opened his eyes with a frown. “What do you want to know?”

“What did you just do?” asked Rose, much more curious about that rather than the murder mystery.

“Simply speaking, I downloaded the entire history of her family into my conscious mind,” he said.

“And that is something you can just do?” asked Rose.

“The knowledge of the entire universe, past, present and future is embedded within all of my kind. I only have to choose to access it,” he shrugged. When Rose just continued to gape at him, he smiled sardonically. “Terribly dull, isn’t it? I can even find out who killed her, but I stopped myself before I discovered that.”

“So you just know everything?” asked Rose, still shocked. 

“Well, yes,” he said. “Not consciously, unless I choose to. And of course, things are not set in stone, so it’s a constantly changing repository of knowledge. I was not bragging when I said my kind were at the very top of the hierarchy of the universe, below only the Guardians.”

“So who are the Guardians, exactly?” asked Rose.

Euphoria gave her a contemplative look before sighing. “To explain it in a way that you would understand,” he began. “...we need to start at the origin of this universe.”

“This universe?” asked Rose, picking up on it immediately, “As opposed to what? Parallel universes?”

“Yes and no,” he said. “Parallel universes are a bit of a misnomer. This universe is known as N-Space. It was created by an event that people of your time call the Big Bang. There are countless parallel universes in N-Space and often only beings of a higher consciousness like us or the Guardians, or some advanced species with the right technology, are able to traverse between the universe of N-Space. Are you with me so far?”

“Yes,” nodded Rose.

Euphoria nodded back. “Then, apart from N-Space, there is E-Space. It’s roughly the same size as N-Space and has parallel universes of its own. And then there are pocket dimensions, quite a few of them as a matter of fact.” He smiled indulgently at Rose before shaking his head. “My point is, the universe as you view it is a much more complex entity than you may imagine.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that,” said Rose, feeling a bit lightheaded.

“Mind you, N-Space and E-Space were both created by the Big Bang but they are relatively new compared to some of the pocket dimensions,” he explained. “Most pocket dimensions are relatively basic, indistinguishable from N-Space and E-Space.”

“But not all of them?” guessed Rose.

“Exactly,” said Euphoria. “There are certain dimensions that are older and much more complex with beings of great power.”

Rose stared at him. “So I guess you are one of them.”

“I am,” he said. “My kind, the Eternals, came from a pocket dimension. We were brought into N-Space, or rather the space that existed before the N-Space came into creation, by the Guardians. My kind are unclear on how they achieved such a feat because the dimension of the Eternals was sealed off.” He sighed again. “There are those among my kind who revere the Guardians as deities or gods.”

“But you don’t?” asked Rose.

“I believe them to possess more knowledge than my kind,” he said, plainly. “But I do not believe them to be superior as a result.” He smiled wryly. “I am the exception, though, and an unpopular one at that.”

Rose didn’t know what to say to that, but Euphoria shrugged and continued before she could think of something.

“Anyway, when my kind was brought over to N-Space, it was nothing. We whiled away several millennia away as beings of consciousness before the Big Bang set creation into motion,” explained Euphoria. “It was quite exciting for a while, I must admit. Watching new stars being born, planets being created, new species coming into existence...it was the greatest show.” He smiled a little. “For a time. Then, it got routine. Ordinary. Once you have seen one star die, you have seen them all. And so my kind became afflicted with it.”

“Afflicted with what?” asked Rose.

“Apathy,” said Euphoria, like it was obvious.

“But not you?” asked Rose.

“Oh no, I am quite apathetic too,” he said. “The difference is that while I am apathetic, that is not all I am. Most of my kind, on the other hand, do not experience any emotion but apathy. The only time they can experience anything, is through ephemerals.” He shook his head again. “My point being, I have been around for a long time and my kind has evolved far beyond this universe ever will. And yet the Guardians seem to outdo us. There’s not even very many of them.”

“How many of them are there?” asked Rose.

“Six,” he said. “Can you imagine that? The most powerful beings in existence but there are only six of them. There are a few millions of us Eternals, but only six Guardians.” At Rose’s wide-eyed look, he smirked. “My kind is immortal and we do not propagate. But I digress. Shall we return to the investigation at hand?”

“Right,” said Rose, having nearly forgotten about it.

Euphoria smiled in a way that might almost be considered kind. “This whole conversation began because you asked if I knew about Lady Clement’s family.”

“Yes,” said Rose, remembering her original question. “I saw her on the dancefloor with this man. She has a stepdaughter, right? Helene?”

“Yes, and her twin, Evangeline,” said Euphoria. 

Rose nodded, having suspected that part. “Is Eva married?” she asked.

“Yes, to Mr Jonah Calverley,” said Euphoria. “Why does it matter?”

“Because I think that might be the man she was dancing with when she was killed,” said Rose.

Euphoria gave her a contemplative look once more. “That is easily verified,” he said, and Inspector Lee walked in as if summoned (which he probably was). “Get the victim’s family. The two step-daughters and the husband of one of them. Keep them separated, though.”

“Very well,” said Inspector Lee, and left.

“Who do you think we should speak to first?” asked Euphoria.

Rose thought about what she had seen when the lights had come back on. “Eva,” she said. “Let’s talk to Eva first.”

~

Evangeline Calverley nee Clement didn’t strike Rose as a murderer. She was highly distraught, for one, and the other reason being Rose had seen her push her way through the crowd and sobbing once she had seen Lady Clement’s body, which meant she hadn’t been near the body.

“So, Rosalind raised you and your sister?” asked Rose, keeping her voice gentle.

Eva nodded. “Our father died when Helene and I were four, only a year after he had married Rosalind. So, she was our mother all our life. She even gave us her last name,” she said, tears filling her eyes.

“Did Rosalind have any other children?” asked Rose. 

“No, just me and Helene,” said Eva. “She always said that we are all that she needed.” Eva burst into tears again and Rose patted her shoulder in comfort. 

“Did you see what happened?” asked Euphoria.

Eva shook her head. “I wasn’t in the ballroom. I was coming back from telling the staff about turning the lights off,” she said.

Rose glanced at Euphoria, who looked as confused as she felt. “You told the staff to turn the lights out?” she asked.

Eva nodded. “This was Rosalind’s tenth annual ball,” she sobbed. “Helene and I had planned a surprise for her. We got one of her favourite voiceover artists to give her a congratulatory message which would play over the sound system. The lights were supposed to go down and a spotlight was to appear on Rosalind…” Eva dissolved into tears again.

“We’ll give you a moment,” Euphoria told Eva, grabbing Rose’s elbow and leading her away slightly. “Well?”

“What?” asked Rose, in a whisper. “I believe her.”

“I do, too,” said Euphoria. 

“I did notice something weird, though,” said Rose. “Lady Clement was perfectly pleasant to Helene but she seemed almost tense toward Eva.”

Euphoria glanced at the sobbing Eva, and nodded at Rose as they returned to Eva. 

“Eva, were things alright between you and Rosalind?” asked Euphoria.

Eva’s brow wrinkled. “Of course,” she said. 

“What about Rosalind and your husband?” asked Rose.

“Jonah?” asked Eva, surprised. “Jonah loved Rosalind.”

“But Rosalind didn’t like him, did she?” asked Rose, shrewdly.

Eva glanced away and swallowed before nodding. “I don’t know why,” she said. “She did, at first. But then earlier this year, she suddenly started giving him the cold shoulder.”

“Did you ask her why?” asked Euphoria.

“I did,” nodded Eva. “She wouldn’t tell me. Jonah didn’t know either. She kept denying she was treating him any differently than she was before.”

“What did Helene think of it?” asked Rose.

“She tried to ask Rosalind but didn’t get a different response,” said Eva. “But I know Helene said she wouldn’t give up until she found the answer.” Eva smiled a little. “My sister’s a little hardheaded, if you didn’t know.”

Rose glanced at Euphoria and knew they were thinking the same thing. Maybe Helene had found the answer.

“Was Helene with you when you were getting the lights turned off?” asked Rose.

“No, she was talking Rosalind into dancing with Jonah. She’s never given up on getting Rosalind to reconcile with him,” said Eva. 

“Thank you,” said Euphoria, and then nodded at Inspector Lee, who led Eva out again. “What do you think?”

“I think Helene and Jonah may have killed Lady Clement,” said Rose, in a low voice.

“Yes, that is becoming more and more likely,” said Euphoria. “Eva might have just been an unwitting pawn.”

“But why? Helene seemed just fine when I saw her with Lady Clement. Why would she and Jonah snap and kill her in the middle of the ball?” asked Rose. “Unless…”

“Unless?” he asked.

“Unless Helene found out what it was that caused Lady Clement to suddenly dislike Jonah,” said Rose.

Euphoria frowned as he considered it. “It’s certainly possible, I mean Lady Clement had a lot of secrets,” he said.

Rose blinked at him. “Right, you downloaded her entire history into your brain,” she said. “So, you must know what caused her to hate Jonah.”

Euphoria thought about it for a moment and then sighed mournfully. “Yes,” he said. “And based on what Eva said, it fits.” When he didn’t say anything further, Rose just stared at him.

“Aren’t you going to share?” she asked.

“Of course not,” he said, as if it was obvious. “I know the reason but you don’t. I want you to find out.”

“Why?” asked Rose.

“Haven’t you been listening to anything I have been saying?” he asked. “My kind are apathetic. The only breaks in the monotony of our existence are the interactions we have through or with ephemerals. I came here to solve a murder but solving it by following your lead has been the most enjoyable part of it.” Rose blushed, but Euphoria didn’t even blink at his own words, speaking them as if they were facts. And perhaps they were for him, in whatever way he processed emotions.

“So you want me to solve this murder?” she asked.

Euphoria nodded. “Exactly,” he said, bluntly. “I’ll let you take the lead.”

“Fine,” said Rose, wanting to get to the bottom of this. “I want to talk to Jonah then.”

Euphoria grinned at her and a moment later, Inspector Lee led Jonah Calverley into the room. 

He was a handsome man, and his face was completely calm. “Could we hurry this up?” he asked, crossing his arms. “I want to return to my wife.”

“You were dancing with Lady Clement when the lights went out, weren’t you?” she asked. “Did you see or hear anything?”

“No,” he said. “I released Rosalind when the lights went out and as you know, everyone had started panicking so I didn’t hear anything either.”

“But you didn’t even register someone stabbing and blindfolding her?” persisted Rose.

“Like I said,” said Jonah, narrowing his eyes at her. “I don’t know what happened. It was dark and chaotic. Someone must have slipped past me and killed her.”

“Do you know why she suddenly started disliking you?” asked Rose.

Jonah blinked but then shook his head. “I have no idea,” he said.

“But you don’t seem broken up over her death,” said Rose.

Jonah looked irritated, more than anything. “I was a bit sick of being treated like something she had found stuck to the bottom of her shoe, yes, especially considering I hadn’t done anything to offend her,” he said. “But mostly I was annoyed because it upset Eva.”

Rose glanced at Euphoria, knowing she was a bit stuck if all Jonah would do is deny he had anything to do with it. Euphoria just smiled at her and Rose knew he was waiting for her to find a way through. 

Jonah evidently was done waiting. “If that’s all, then,” he said.

“Wait,” said Rose, and turned to Euphoria. “Can you ask Inspector Lee to bring Eva and Helene in here as well?”

Euphoria nodded, and a moment later, Inspector Lee walked in with the twins in tow. Jonah immediately moved toward Eva and put an arm around her shoulder.

“What is the point of questioning us?” asked Helene, crossing her arms. “Clearly none of us harmed Rosalind.”

Rose racked her brains, wondering what would throw them off. It suddenly occurred to her and she smiled apologetically at Helene. “I know,” she said. “But I thought it might be easier to get things out in the open now.”

Helene’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean? Get what out in the open?” she asked.

“How long have you and Jonah been having an affair?” asked Rose.

Jonah reared back in shock, as did Helene, while Eva just looked confused. 

“I beg your pardon?” thundered Jonah. “What kind of a man do you think I am?”

“The kind who has an affair with his wife’s twin,” said Rose, unflinchingly, as Helene just gaped at her.

“That’s not true,” protested Eva. “They would never…” she paused and looked between Helene and Jonah. “It’s not true, is it?”

“Of course it isn’t,” said Helene. 

“Was that it?” persisted Rose. “Did Lady Clement find out, and you both killed her to keep it quiet?” Jonah looked too furious to speak, as did Helene, and Rose seized the chance since it was the first time Jonah seemed to be expressing a genuine emotion. “It really explains it, you know. Lady Clement was a kind, generous woman who raised daughters who weren’t hers with all the love and affection they would need. And then someone like you comes along to destroy the lives of her daughters. No wonder a wonderful woman like Rosalind couldn’t stand you.”

“You shut your mouth, you little bitch!” snarled Jonah. “What the fuck do you know about the kind of woman Rosalind was? Kind and generous, don’t make me laugh! She was an evil, conniving woman.” 

“Jonah!” gasped Eva, staring at him in horror. “W-what are you saying?” She looked between her sister and Jonah again. “Tell me you didn’t do anything to Rosalind.”

“They can’t,” said Rose, when Jonah just glared at her angrily while Helene glanced away from Eva. “Because they killed her.”

Jonah seemed to collect himself and glared down at Rose. “Whoever killed her did the world a favour. But it wasn’t any of us. And you can’t prove that it was, so I am done talking to you.”

_So close_ , thought Rose, as her mind raced furiously. “Eva,” she blurted out. “Don’t you want to know the truth?”

“Eva, Helene, we’re leaving,” ordered Jonah, but Eva shook his arm away.

“Tell me the truth,” she said. “Helene.”

Helene looked miserable but at her sister’s imploring tone, she took a deep breath. “Eva…”

“No,” said Eva, tears filling her eyes. 

“We’re not having an affair, I promise you,” said Helene, and sounded honest as she said it. Considering Rose had said it to cause friction between them, she wasn’t too surprised that it wasn’t true. “But…”

“Helene, shut your mouth,” snarled Jonah.

Helene’s lip trembled but she glared defiantly at Jonah. “You don’t tell me what to do,” she said. “I didn’t…I didn’t know…”

Jonah swelled furiously. “Didn’t know what? You were the one who dug up the past when it should have stayed buried. It was your fault!”

“Helene, tell me what happened,” demanded Eva.

Helene inhaled and looked down. “I found out why Rosalind started treating Jonah differently,” she said. “Dad and Rosalind were friends when Dad and Mum were married. A year after we were born, Dad found out that Mum was having an affair when he walked in on her and her lover. He was enraged and he…” Helene swallowed before continuing. “He killed Mum’s lover. He would have killed Mum too, but she told him she was pregnant. The child wasn’t Dad’s. Dad called Rosalind, who helped him cover up the murder. The two of them kept Mum under house arrest until the child was born and then…” 

“Then they killed her!” shouted Jonah. “Just like they killed my father.”

Eva looked nauseous as she turned to Jonah. “Your father?” she asked. “He was…”

“They gave the child up for adoption,” said Helene. “Rosalind had no idea it was Jonah but when she found out...she couldn’t bear it, knowing you and Jonah…” Helene trailed off.

“Why wouldn’t she just tell me?” asked Eva, looking repulsed. Rose didn’t blame her; she had just found her husband was her half-brother.

“That’s what I was trying to get her to do earlier,” said Helene. “I found out that Jonah was the product of an affair that our mother had...but I didn’t know…”

“She didn’t know your father had killed my parents with Rosalind’s help,” snapped Jonah. “Rosalind let it slip in front of me and Helene. She told me...she told me she would not hesitate to make me disappear as well if I did not leave you.” Jonah looked at Eva desperately who took a step back from him. 

“We didn’t plan it, Eva,” said Helene. “I promise you. It’s just...when I thought about it...I was just so angry. And I knew the lights would be going out. Jonah grabbed the knife and I...I didn’t stop him.”

Eva stumbled on her feet but held up a hand when Helene and Jonah tried to reach toward her. “Why did you blindfold her?” she asked, finally.

Helene and Jonah exchanged a look before Helene glanced away with a look of shame on her face. “When Jonah said he would get justice for his parents, Rosalind laughed in his face,” confessed Helene. “She said Lady Justice was not blind because she was impartial…”

“It was because she could be blinded by money and power,” spat Jonah. 

“Jonah pretended he would agree and said they should dance while they discussed how he would leave you,” said Helene. “I waited nearby, and when the lights went out…”

Eva stared at them for a few moments before turning to Inspector Lee. “That seemed like a confession to me, Inspector,” she said.

Inspector Lee glanced at Euphoria and Rose, before nodding. “Right, of course,” he said. “Mr Jonah Calverley, Ms Helene Clement, you are both under arrest for the murder of Lady Rosalind Clement. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned on something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence…” 

“Eva,” whispered Helene, but Eva turned her back and walked out without another glance at either of them as Inspector Lee summoned a few of the security guards to arrest Helene and Jonah.

“Suppose our work here is done,” Euphoria whispered to Rose.

Rose didn’t say anything, too horrified by how the events had played out to say anything. She left Euphoria behind and followed after Eva, but Eva had seemingly vanished into the crowd of guests in the next room, and Rose couldn’t find her.

“Rose, what is going on?” asked River, as she hurried up to Rose. Rose just shook her head, and she must have looked awful, because River just gave her a hug and rubbed her back. “It’s alright, whatever it is. It’s alright.”

Rose hugged her back gratefully but pulled away. “I’ll be right back,” she said, and returned to find Euphoria but he was nowhere to be seen. She felt a light tap on her shoulder and turned around to see him. 

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her into a nearby powder room. “Inspector Lee will handle the rest.”

“Won’t it be weird if they remember you?” she asked.

“They won’t remember me,” he said. “Nor will they remember you, for that matter. Everyone here, including the killers and Eva will think it was Inspector Lee who solved this mystery.”

Rose felt a spark of anger at his dismissive tone. “Is that it then? You just manipulated everyone to do what you wanted?”

Euphoria looked down at her with a smile. “And what was it that you did exactly when you got them all together back there and lit the spark?” he asked.

Rose reared back, as if slapped. “I didn’t…”

“I am not blaming you,” he said. “I am actually very impressed. This is why I like ephemerals. Even with no powers, you find ways to achieve what you want.”

“I am not like you!” snapped Rose. “I am not!”

He sighed. “I don’t see the problem, but fine, if that is what you want to believe,” he said. “I must be going now, but I wanted to say goodbye to you.” He chuckled at the still-angry look on her face. “This was fun, and I look forward to what else you do, Rose Tyler.”

Rose stared at him, the ominous words making her shiver lightly. Euphoria smiled and it looked like he would disappear before her very eyes. “Wait,” she said. Euphoria paused and looked at her questioningly. “Why did you say it?” she asked. “Why did you say I smelled like a wolf before?”

Euphoria smiled. “It’s an old legend among my kind,” he said. “They said that there was a being from another dimension, a powerful goddess, with the power of life and death within her being. They called her the Bad Wolf.”

Rose shivered again, as she remembered Lia saying those words. “Who is the Bad Wolf?” she asked.

“It’s just a legend,” said Euphoria. “I have certainly never encountered the Bad Wolf, nor has any of my kind. It is just a story, Rose, nothing more.”

“Then why would you say I smell like a wolf?” asked Rose, confused. 

Euphoria fixed her with a look. “It was a joke,” he said. “That’s all.”

Rose didn’t believe him, and he looked like he knew it. “Do you know Lia? Aurelia,” asked Rose, persistently.

“Aurelia?” he asked, and then smiled. “Ah.”

Rose stared at him eagerly. He was the first one to have shown any signs of recognition when she had mentioned Lia. 

“You have been holding out on me, Rose Tyler,” he said. “If you’ve encountered Aurelia...well, now I am even more excited.” 

Before Rose could ask what he meant by that, Euphoria vanished into thin air, leaving Rose with more questions than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the brief glimpse into River's POV :)


	10. The Poisoned Chocolate

Hilary Term at Oxford began on the 16th of January in 2005. Christmas and New Years’ had gone by in a flash, and considering all the reading and holiday work Martin had assigned, Rose didn’t realise how quickly the winter break flew by until she was back in her room at Hertford, ready to begin the new term.

She and Elliott attended a meeting with Martin on the first day of term as he gave them their tutorial timetables for the term and provided feedback on their holiday work. 

“Overall, I am pleased with both of you,” he said. “I don’t want either of you losing any steam, though. Hilary Term is notoriously busier and I expect you two to keep up.” He fixed them with a stern look before smiling. “Next Friday is the Fieldwork Conference. Have either of you given any thought to what you would like your fieldwork component to be?”

“There’s an ongoing conservation project in the ruins of Pompeii ,” said Elliott. “It’s headed by a team from Korea, but they invite university students from time to time. I intend to apply for it.”

Martin nodded approvingly. “That would be a good project for you, Elliott,” he said, making a note. “I will look into it as well, but I’d like both of you to have one or two options in case your first choice falls through. What about you, Rose?”

“I found one as well, but I don’t know how viable it will be,” she said. “It’s the Ichijodani Asakura ruins in Fukui.”

Martin frowned. “That is certainly an interesting one, but I am unsure if they offer any student opportunities, particularly for foreign ones,” he said. “Do you speak the language?” Rose shook her head and Martin’s frown deepened. “I’ll still look into it for you,” he added, making a note. “I also have a request for you, which is rare.”

“A request?” she asked, glancing at Elliott who also looked puzzled.

“Dr Sarah Essa has invited you to apply for an internship at the Ashmolean,” he said. “She said you previously assisted on a matter.”

Rose nodded, even as the memories of the Ashmolean made her stomach twist. “It was before I started at Oxford. I worked for an archaeologist and we assisted at the Ashmolean last summer,” she explained.

“You must have certainly impressed Dr Essa,” said Martin. “Think about it. Internship opportunities are always good for experience.”

Rose nodded, a little flattered despite herself that Sarah had requested her. 

“Excellent, that should do it for today,” he said. “Make sure you attend all your practical classes starting this term. I’ll see you soon.”

Rose and Elliott left together after Martin dismissed them. “I’m headed to the library to get started on the assigned reading for this week,” said Elliott. “You coming?”

“Can’t, sorry,” she said. “I’ve still got unpacking to do.”

Elliott rolled his eyes but nodded. Rose returned to her room, but instead of unpacking, which she had finished before the meeting with Martin, she grabbed the stack of envelopes and placed them in her satchel. It took her awhile as she dropped off the invitations for various prospective members for the Butterflies, all around the campus. Each invitation contained a puzzle designed to lead them to the Chrysalis, along with a date and time. She returned just before dinner, frozen to the bone since it had started snowing some time ago.

“Did you go for a bicycle ride in the snow?” asked Miranda, when she saw her.

Rose nodded sheepishly. “I’ll just hop into the shower quickly. Mind getting my dinner?”

Miranda rolled her eyes but nodded when Rose handed over her student card. Rose finished showering and went down to the dining hall for dinner. Miranda waved her over and Rose smiled at the sight of the warm chicken pot pie and cup of hot chocolate.

“It hasn’t even been a day and you already look too busy,” observed Miranda.

Rose shrugged with a mouthful of chicken pot pie. “Martin did say the Hilary Term is busier,” she said, after swallowing her food. “What about you? All unpacked?”

Miranda nodded. “Yes, and I also had a meeting with Noelle,” she said, referring to her tutor. “We should head to the bar after this. I promised Jake we would meet him for a drink.”

Rose was ready for bed, but nodded in agreement since she wanted to catch up with Jake as well. True to form, Jake was surrounded by a group of people when they got to the bar. 

“Hiya, Rose!” he waved, when he saw her. “Good break?”

“Not bad, kept busy,” smiled Rose as she gave him a hug. “You?”

“Can’t complain,” he grinned. “Come on, let’s go buy a round.”

Sensing he wanted to talk, Rose let him lead her to the bar. “What’s going on, Jake?” she asked, waving briefly at Des behind the bar who shot her a bright grin.

“Do you know Jim Ramos?” he asked.

“No,” said Rose. “Should I?”

Jake chuckled and nodded back to the group, in particular toward a muscled young man with tanned skin. “He’s a member of the college boat club, same as me.”

“Right,” said Rose, still unsure where this was going.

“He asked me if you were single,” he said.

Rose raised her eyebrows and glanced at Jim, who noticed her gaze and smiled at her charmingly before returning to the conversation at the table. “I don’t really have the time to date, Jake,” said Rose, but her words sounded hollow to her own ears. Truth was, it really had been a while since she had dated anyone at all. “Besides, he’s not really my type.”

Jake gave her a disbelieving look which made her laugh. “Alright, whatever you say,” he said. “The boat club is having a party on Thursday night to pump us up for the Torpids. You should stop by. Jim’s sister, Paula, runs the Chocolate Mill, over by Mesopotamia Walk and she’s catering the event.”

Rose nodded, having heard that the King’s Mill House had been converted to a chocolate shop over the break, and she knew the Torpids was one of the two intercollegiate rowing races. “Has the Chocolate Mill opened yet?” she asked.

“No, opening day is tomorrow. Paula’s done us a solid and prepared gift boxes to give to the other teams at the end of the night as well,” said Jake. 

“It’s an intercollegiate party?” asked Rose.

“Yeah,” said Jake. “Each college takes a turn hosting it. This year it’s Hertford’s turn,” he added, as they returned to the table with drinks. “Think about giving Jim a chance, would you?” he murmured to her in a low voice. “He’s a good bloke.”

Rose nodded, though she knew it was only to placate Jake. She sidestepped Jake’s obvious attempts to usher her toward the empty chair next to Jim, and sat down next to Miranda.

“Are you alright?” asked Miranda, since Rose had sighed as soon as she had sat down.

“Yeah,” said Rose. “Just tired.”

“Me too,” said Miranda. “We should head off after this drink.”

Rose nodded gratefully, all too happy with that plan. “Miranda,” she said. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” said Miranda.

“Do you get asked out?” she asked, realising Miranda had never told her if anyone had.

Miranda shrugged. “A few times, but most people just think I’m odd,” she said.

“You’re not odd,” said Rose, without missing a beat. “But you haven’t gone out with anyone?”

Miranda shook her head. “I feel like my priorities are different at the moment,” she said, and Rose thought that was an incredibly honest thing to say.

“Okay,” said Rose, with a small smile.

“Why do you ask?” asked Miranda, curiously.

Rose leaned in close and lowered her voice. “Jake’s friend, Jim, apparently wants to ask me out,” she whispered.

“Oh,” said Miranda, glancing briefly at Jim before looking away. “Do...you want to?”

“Not particularly,” shrugged Rose.

“Oh, good,” said Miranda, looking visibly relieved.

“Why? Do you know something about him?” asked Rose.

“No,” said Miranda. “Just...I always pictured you with someone different.”

“Like who?” asked Rose, more amused than anything.

“I don’t know...someone who knows more about the universe and the world that’s out there,” said Miranda.

Rose considered that and nodded. It would be nice to talk about the things she had seen and experienced with the person she would be dating. “I don’t have many of those people, though,” said Rose, thinking about it briefly. “I mean, River and Jack are like family. Etain and Violet are lovely, but not exactly people I would like to date. That just leaves Euphoria, and call me crazy, but I don’t want to date an Eternal.”

“What about the Doctor?” asked Miranda.

“What about him?” asked Rose, too quickly. Miranda gave her a look, and Rose shook her head. “It’s not like that. He’s...I dunno...someone I just happened to run into.”

“Twice,” added Miranda. Rose just rolled her eyes and Miranda smiled and let it go. “Are you almost done with your drink?”

Rose downed the last bit and nodded. “Let’s head off.”

They said their goodbyes, and returned to their floor in comfortable silence, as Rose tried not to think too much about Miranda’s words.

Because it was absurd, surely.

Her and the Doctor.

Just completely absurd.

~

On the first Wednesday of the Hilary Term, Rose attended a lecture on Archaeology and Anthropology before 1850. After the lecture, she went to the Tylor Library to check out a few books for extra reading on the topic, and then met Elliott in the library for a study session after lunch.

“We need to finish by 4 today,” said Rose, as they began jotting down notes for the tutorial that they had to attend the next day. 

“Why? You got a date?” asked Elliott, slightly mockingly. Rose didn’t dignify that with a response, and he huffed. “Fine,” he said. “I have to meet with Jordan either way.”

Rose looked up and smiled at him. “I still can’t believe you agreed to help put together the Valentine’s Day exhibition,” she said. 

The Archaeological Society was hosting an exhibition in partnership with the Anthropological Society, consisting of curated artefacts relating to rituals of courtship and marriage on the weekend before Valentine’s Day. Rose had volunteered to assist on one of the days, but surprisingly, Elliott had put his hand up to help as well and joined the organisation committee for the event.

“You were the one who said we had to get involved properly,” said Elliott, irritably.

Rose just smiled. “Sure,” she said, and returned to her note-taking.

Even though she wasn’t looking at him, she knew he was rolling his eyes. “Have you given any more thought to your fieldwork project?”

Rose looked at him and frowned. “Ichijodani Asakura won’t work,” she said. “I had a meeting with Martin yesterday and he told me they refused. He’s given me a couple more options, so I’ll look through them this week.”

“You still have the Ashmolean,” said Elliott.

“Yeah, but I’d rather leave that as the final option,” she said.

“Why’s that?” he asked, curiously.

“Martin said so,” she said. “He suggested I should consider doing an internship or at least get a volunteering position at the Ashmolean in the breaks for next year, as opposed to choosing it as my fieldwork component.”

Elliott seemed to consider it and nodded. “That’s a good idea,” he said. “The Ashmolean is right here and you can absolutely get an opportunity whenever you want, considering you already have a foot in the door with Dr Essa.”

“Not sure about that, but I trust Martin knows what he’s doing,” shrugged Rose.

They went back to studying, and as agreed, they both left at 4. Rose returned to her room to drop off her things and took a shower, before dressing in a nicer pair of black jeans and a royal blue peasant blouse. She brushed her hair and tied half of it up, letting the rest of her honey blonde hair flow past her shoulders. Her makeup thankfully didn’t take long, but she checked and doublechecked it a few times. 

Rose had long since foregone the heavy makeup she had worn in secondary school, and usually opted for a more natural look, with some translucent powder, clear gloss, and just a touch of mascara. On this particular day, she swapped the clear gloss for a pink lipstick and added a hint of blush to her cheeks.

Once satisfied, she bundled up in her coat, scarf, gloves and hat, and left just before 5. It didn’t take her long to get to the Mesopotamia Walk and she smiled as she made her way into the Chocolate Mill.

Despite the mid-nineteenth century exterior of the King’s Mill House, the interior was a cosy little shop that smelled of sugar and chocolate. A sparkling clean glass case adjoining the main counter displayed beautifully decorated chocolates and cakes and the wall behind the counter had various chocolate dispensing machines.

“Welcome to the Chocolate Mill,” greeted the woman behind the counter. Rose immediately noticed the resemblance between her and Jim Ramos. Sure enough, her name tag read ‘Paula’.

“Hi,” grinned Rose. “Could I get a dozen of those chocolate bon-bons and a dozen assorted chocolate covered strawberries?”

“Coming right up,” said Paula.

“Your shop is beautiful,” said Rose.

Paula smiled at her as she carefully used tongs to place the dozen bon-bons into one of the neat white boxes. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s not a very popular location but I have been getting customers quite steadily.”

“If they taste even half as good as they look, I’m pretty sure I’ll be a regular customer,” said Rose. 

“Thank you so much for that,” said Paula, looking pleased as a punch.

“You won’t be so grateful when I blame you for me going up five sizes,” laughed Rose.

Paula laughed with her as she finished packing the two boxes which she placed in a brown paper bag with the shop’s logo stamped on it. “Oh, hang on,” she said, and placed about half a dozen fudge samples in the bag as well. “On the house.”

“Thank you,” said Rose gratefully. 

After paying Paula, Rose made her way over to the Chrysalis on foot. She was surprised that the mechanism worked perfectly despite the ground above being covered with a layer of snow. She wished she could ask Etain how she had managed to build this back in the nineteenth century.

Inside the Chrysalis, she turned the heating on and then laid out one of the tables in the sitting room with the chocolates, and some biscuits and crisps. It was just after 5.30 by the time she was done setting up, and the Chrysalis was no longer freezing. Rose took a seat in the sitting room and waited, getting up only to put the kettle on when it was five minutes before six.

She was in the middle of making a pot of tea when she heard the mechanism shift overhead and careful footsteps come down the stairs. From the sound of it, it was only one person. Rose left the tea brewing and walked back to the sitting room, just as a young Black woman walked in. She was dressed sensibly for the cold, and her eyes went wide when she saw Rose.

“Hi,” said Rose, with a welcoming smile. “I’m Rose Tyler. First year at Hertford for Arch and Anth.”

“Adeola Oshodi. Adi, for short. I’m second year engineering at Trinity,” she said. “But I guess you knew that.” She held up the invitation and the pinned butterfly in her hand.

“Not all of it, just your name and what college you were at,” said Rose. “Come in, you’re the first one here. I’ve just put the kettle on.”

Adi walked in, looking around in slight wonder at the sitting room. She opened her mouth, presumably to ask a lot of questions, but the mechanism shifted overhead once again, and a young woman with light brown hair cut into a pixie cut walked in, carrying a similar invitation and a pinned butterfly. She grinned brightly when she saw them.

“You know, I thought it was a joke and I have never been so glad to be wrong,” she said. Rose noted her lilting Welsh accent and immediately found it charming. “Clarissa Jones. First year music at Christ Church.”

Introductions followed, and in that time, Shanaya and Miranda had also made their way in.

“How many people did you invite?” asked Shanaya, as they all sat down with their tea. 

“Ten,” answered Rose. “Although, only the ones who were able to solve the puzzle will make it.”

“And those that are interested enough to try,” added Clarissa.

The next person to walk in was a petite blonde with her long hair in a thick braid, who introduced herself as Tara Jackson. She and Shanaya knew each other, since she had been a part of the ‘coven’. Like Shanaya, she was also at Lady Margaret Hall but was studying Classics and Modern Language instead of Theology and Religion like Shanaya.

“Do we think this is about it?” asked Adi, glancing around. “It’s still a decent turnout.”

The mechanism opened once again and admitted a brunette with curly dark brown hair and thick glasses. Maura Taylor was a first year Law student at Brasenose, and as the time ticked to twenty minutes past six, the general consensus seemed to be that there would be no further arrivals.

Rose cleared her throat and stood up. “Good evening, everyone,” she said, hoping she didn’t look as nervous as she felt. “My name is Rose Tyler. I recently encountered an alumnus who was the last member of the Butterflies. She passed on the mantle to me and requested that I revive the society.” 

She noticed a few raised eyebrows and she couldn’t blame them, since they would have researched the Butterflies when they had received the puzzle and found the same information that she had; the Butterflies had all died.

“The reason why I chose all of you was because I believe you are capable of handling the information about this alumnus better than most people,” continued Rose, giving them all an appraising look.

“You mean to say she was an alien?” asked Shanaya.

“No,” said Rose. “But she wasn’t human.”

“That’s impossible,” said Adi.

“It’s not,” said Clarissa, surprisingly. “Humans are not the only intelligent species on Earth. We have species who reside in the core of the planet and in the deepest oceans that we are yet to explore. And that’s just what I know of.”

“She’s correct,” nodded Maura. “So, who was the alumnus?”

“Her name was Etain,” said Rose. “She’s a fairy. A goddess in Irish mythology, actually.”

“I know of the legend of Etain,” said Tara, her eyes lighting up. “Are you telling me she’s real?”

Rose nodded, and Adi gave them a look of pure disbelief.

“Look, I believe there are aliens,” said Adi. “But fairies?”

“Rose is telling the truth,” said Shanaya. “My father’s office had a case that dealt with an incident involving fairies in Callanish about a decade ago. My father is a judge for cases that involve an element of extraterrestrial or otherwise otherworldly phenomenon that the common public is as yet unaware of,” she added, by way of explanation to the others.

“Is that how you found each of us?” asked Maura.

Rose nodded. “I knew you had been a witness to some alien technology,” she said.

Maura chuckled. “My brother, Malcolm, decided to bring work home,” she said. “He’s a scientist for this organisation called UNIT.”

“Unified Intelligence Taskforce, yes,” said Clarissa. “Used to be the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce when my mother worked for them back in the 70s.”

“Really?” asked Rose, surprised. “I didn’t know that. Shanaya said you were on the radar of her father’s office because of your father’s work.”

“Well, yes, that too,” said Clarissa. “He’s an environmentalist.”

“And a Nobel Laureate,” added Shanaya.

Clarissa laughed. “Yes, and that,” she said. “He and Mum raised me and my brothers and sisters all over the globe and we were witness to some alien phenomenon in Cardiff a few years ago.”

“How many siblings do you have?” asked Tara.

“I’m the youngest of seven,” said Clarissa. “We all grew up hearing stories from Mum and Dad, mostly from Mum.”

“Hold on, what’s your mother’s name?” asked Maura. 

“Jo Jones,” said Clarissa. “Her maiden name is Grant.”

Maura’s eyes went wide. “I’ve heard of her! She worked with the Doctor,” she said.

Rose felt her heart nearly stop as Clarissa nodded sheepishly. “The Doctor?” she asked.

“He’s an alien,” said Maura. “He used to work for UNIT as a scientific advisor. My brother is a huge fan.”

“You know the Doctor?” asked Tara, and something in her tone made Rose think it wasn’t the first time Tara was hearing his name.

“I’ve never met him,” said Maura.

“I haven’t either,” said Clarissa. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, my Dad...he…” said Tara, nervously. “He used to travel with him.”

“In the TARDIS?” asked Maura, eyes nearly bulging out of her skull.

“How do you-?” began Tara, but then nodded. “Yeah, back in the 60s. He and Polly, my step-mum, travelled with the Doctor.”

“I had no idea,” said Shanaya. “I mentioned you to Rose because of that whole thing with Caroline.”

“Rose has met the Doctor,” blurted out Miranda.

“You have?” asked Clarissa, as they all looked at Rose.

“Yeah, twice,” admitted Rose, though she did shoot Miranda a slightly annoyed look. “Once back in London and once here in Oxford.”

“The Doctor was here?” asked Maura, excitedly.

“Who is this Doctor, exactly?” asked Adi.

“He’s a member of a time-travelling species called the Time Lords,” explained Maura. At a look from everyone, she shrugged. “Like I said, my brother is a huge fan.”

“How did you make the list, Adi?” asked Miranda.

Adi blinked for a moment and then shrugged sheepishly. “I...um...did something,” she said.

“By something, you mean you hacked into Torchwood’s systems two years ago?” asked Shanaya, amused.

“Yeah,” said Adi. 

“What’s Torchwood?” asked Tara.

“While UNIT has global jurisdiction, Torchwood is Britain’s own organisation for monitoring and dealing with alien threats,” said Adi. “I was bored so I hacked into their system. They offered me a deal instead of throwing me in jail.”

“My father’s office is directly linked to Torchwood,” said Shanaya. “Any cases requiring an intervention by the British legal system are dealt with by him and his office.”

“UNIT has its own court in Geneva, but like Adi said, it is a global organisation,” said Clarissa.

“There was a reason that people in this room were chosen,” said Rose. “God, that makes me sound pompous.” There was scattered laughter at that. “My point is, we all know there is much more to this universe than most people have been led to believe. I decided that the Butterflies was a perfectly good avenue to bring us together.”

“I’m on board,” said Clarissa, immediately. “Having a secret lair under the Cherwell would have been enough but the fact that we can all have these discussions openly is even better.”

One by one, everyone voiced their agreement, and Rose gave them all a copy of the original prospectus which Shanaya agreed she would help revise to fit their modern brief. They also decided to have their weekly dinners on Wednesday with Tara and Adi agreeing to split the responsibilities for making dinner each week. 

The evening came to an end after a tour of the Chrysalis, and as the clock struck nine, the first meeting of the Butterflies came to an end.

Rose checked everything was back in its place and was the last one to leave the Chrysalis. The chocolates from the Chocolate Mill had been a huge hit and the boxes were all empty.

As she made her way back to Hertford, she couldn’t help but be excited for the start of a new chapter of her university life.

~

Two days after the first meeting of the Chrysalis, the first bit of the unusual made its way to Rose.

“Did you hear?” asked Clarissa. She and Adi were the only ones in the Chrysalis that afternoon, apart from Rose, since the others had classes or other engagements. “The entire Christ Church men’s boat club is sick. Stuff coming out both ends.”

“Oh, gross,” said Adi, wrinkling her nose. 

“Must be something they ate,” said Rose. 

“That’s the general theory, yeah,” said Clarissa. “They were due to play Hertford this weekend for a practice match before the Torpids but they’re now out of commission. It’s still odd, though.”

“How so?” asked Adi.

“Well, at first our college thought it would have been something in our kitchens, but no one else apart from the men’s boat team got sick. The women’s team use the same facilities and club rooms and eat at the same place, but they’re all fine,” frowned Clarissa.

“That is odd,” agreed Rose. “Do you think someone sabotaged them?”

“Seems that way, doesn’t it?” said Clarissa.

“Sabotaging is a harsh word,” said Adi. “More likely to be boys playing jokes on each other.”

“That might be it, as well,” nodded Rose.

But then the next day, the Somerville and Exeter Colleges’ men’s boat clubs had also become sick with the same thing. Rumours around campus said that the teams were being sabotaged ahead of the Torpids, but no link had yet been established between the three teams and the source of the poisoning.

“They reckon it’s one of the other teams,” Jake told Rose that Sunday at dinner. “We have all been told to only eat at the college and avoid going out to eat.”

“The weird part is that the entire team is getting sick,” said Miranda. “When was the last time you had an entire team eating the same thing?”

“It’s more likely than you think,” said Jim Ramos, who had also joined their little group, much to Rose’s discomfort. He kept trying to engage her in conversation and despite not wanting to be rude, Rose had been dropping hints that she was not interested. “We all use the same supplements and eat almost the same thing every day.”

“Are the supplements shared by the women’s team as well?” asked Rose. At Jake’s nod, she shrugged. “Then it’s not the supplements, because then they would be sick as well.”

“Good point,” said Jake. “Besides, they already ruled out the kitchens at the respective colleges. None of the other students got sick.”

“I think they sabotaged themselves,” said Jim.

“Why would they do that?” asked Miranda.

Jim looked at Jake, who sighed. “Oriel College is expected to win the Torpids,” he said. “They’ve won the past three years in a row and their team this year is unbelievably strong.”

“Especially Gough,” added Jim. “He’s their best oarsman by a mile. And as if to rub it in, he’s dating Penny Smithson.” At blank looks from everyone else, he rolled his eyes. “She was Miss United Kingdom last year.”

“So you think the teams are poisoning themselves on purpose so they don’t have to compete?” asked Rose, raising her eyebrows sceptically.

“Maybe. If teams did want to not compete, then poisoning themselves is better than injuring themselves to get disqualified,” said Jake.

“Or use it as an excuse for why they lost,” added Jim, nodding in agreement.

“Well, that just doesn’t add up,” said Miranda. “You would have to get the entire team on board with that, for one. To willingly poison themselves and admit they’re too scared to go up against Oriel.”

“Not to mention, the Torpids start in the seventh week of the term,” said Rose. “That’s over five weeks away. Wouldn’t they want to be poisoned right before the race?”

“That’s true if it is sabotage as well,” said Jake. “It’s not life-threatening, as far as I have heard. Just takes you out of commission for a couple of days.”

Rose frowned as she considered it, but heard one of the porters call out to her.

“Tyler, you’ve got a visitor at the Lodge.”

Rose nodded gratefully at the porter. “I’ll see you all later,” she said, and cleared her tray before making her way to the Porter’s Lodge. When she got there, she was shocked to see Etain. She was in her youthful form instead of the form of Adina Teasedale, and she smiled at Rose when she saw her.

“What are you doing here?” asked Rose, too shocked to return the gesture.

“You forgot your notebook in London. I was here in Oxford on business and thought I would come give it back,” she said, and then gestured subtly to various people around the Lodge.

“Right,” said Rose, plastering on a smile. “Come on, I’ll show my room. Not everyday my favourite cousin comes to visit.”

Etain smiled and Rose led her out of the Lodge and toward her room. “What’s going on?” asked Rose.

“I need to speak to you,” said Etain. 

“I gathered that,” said Rose. “But I thought it’s not safe for you to come back to places you have been before because of Midir.”

“That’s true, but like I said, I needed to speak to you,” said Etain.

“You could have called. Or emailed,” said Rose, leading Etain inside her room and closing and locking the door.

“I don’t trust human modes of communication,” said Etain, as she glanced around her room in interest before sitting down primly at the edge of her bed.

Rose rolled her eyes and sat in her desk chair, facing Etain. “What did you want to talk about?”

Etain stopped looking around the room and took a deep breath. “Once I left here, I went and visited an old friend in Cardiff,” she said. “Violet says hello, by the way.”

“You went to see Violet?” asked Rose. “How is she?”

“That’s what I am here about,” said Etain. “Violet’s kingdom is in danger.”

Rose looked concerned. “Why? What happened?”

“Violet is a very progressive queen, you must understand. It’s one of the reasons why I like her so much,” explained Etain. “She has paved the way for modern kingdoms for our kind, and is a beloved figure as a result. Unfortunately, the traditionalists despise her, which means her kingdom is constantly under threat. But she is a strong queen and her kingdom has been able to withstand opposition with great fortitude.”

“So what’s wrong?” asked Rose.

“It’s different, this time,” said Etain, gravely. “This time, Violet fears the threat comes from within her kingdom.”

“A civil war?” asked Rose, horrified.

“Let us pray it doesn’t come to that but it is not out of the realm of possibility,” said Etain.

“What do you want me to do?” asked Rose.

Etain smiled briefly and reached into the handbag she had been carrying. “Have you heard of Dr Craig Bailey?” she asked, pulling out a book.

“Vaguely,” said Rose, wondering what this had to do with anything. “He’s an archaeologist, I know that.”

Etain nodded. “He’s the world’s leading expert when it comes to fairy rings on the British Isles,” she said. “Or so his book says, anyway.” She handed the book over to Rose. “He’s known to fairies, because he is one of the most respectful humans we have encountered.”

Rose, who had been looking at the picture of Dr Bailey on the back cover of the book, glanced at Etain in surprise. “He knows about fairies?” she asked.

“Well, he knows what the legends say and he considers the stories to be true,” said Etain. “But no, he has never actually seen a fairy. Not one he knew was a fairy, at least.”

“What does he have to do with Violet?” asked Rose.

“His most recent archaeological dig is in Roundstone Woods,” said Etain. “Violet uncovered a plot designed to endanger her kingdom, that involved Dr Bailey though she does not know the details of the plan, nor who the perpetrators are. The traitor she unmasked chose death over betrayal.”

“How would he be involved?” asked Rose. “Do you think he’s colluding with them?”

“No, Violet suspects the traitors plan to use him for their own means,” said Etain. “Our kind has very strict rules about interacting with humans. If someone in Violet’s kingdom were to violate one of these rules in full view of a human expert likely to disclose it, not only would Violet be dethroned, she would be put to death for endangering all our kind.”

Rose nodded; it made sense. “How can I help?”

Etain smiled at her. “What Violet needs is a buffer. A human, whom she can trust,” she said. “I hear you have a fieldwork component to undertake this summer.”

Rose stared at Etain and then down at the book. “You want me to apply for a position on his dig team,” she realised.

Etain nodded. “Violet is confident she can discover the perpetrators herself, but she would like some help with the humans,” she said. “I know it’s a lot to ask…”

“I’ll do it,” said Rose, reading the summary of Dr Bailey’s book which was about the dig in the Hill of Tara in Ireland. 

“Are you sure?” asked Etain. “Violet says she owes you a favour, not the other way around…”

“I owe you a favour too,” said Rose, looking at Etain. Etain just looked confused. “You paid for my education in full, Etain.”

“Oh,” said Etain. “Well, that’s nothing at all. Human money holds no worth for me.”

“Well, it’s not nothing to me,” said Rose, firmly. “Besides, I was stumped on finding a fieldwork project anyway. I’ll certainly apply for it, but I may not be successful.” When she saw the look on Etain’s face, she held up a hand. “Please don’t pull any strings. Literal or otherwise,” she warned.

Etain pouted but nodded. “Fine,” she said. “I am confident you will get it on your own merit, regardless.”

Rose nodded. “I’ll speak to my tutor and apply right away,” she said. 

Etain stood up and gave Rose a grateful smile. “Thank you, Rose,” she said. “I should be on my way then, before Midir catches a whiff.”

“Of course,” said Rose. “I’ll walk you back.”

“I can just disappear from here,” said Etain.

“People saw me lead you up here,” said Rose. “They might get suspicious if you disappear.”

Etain rolled her eyes but agreed. As Rose walked her back, she told her about the Butterflies, and Etain was inordinately pleased.

“I’ll let Violet know you will be there to assist this summer,” said Etain, as they reached the road. “Thank you, Rose.”

“No, thank _you_ , Etain,” said Rose. “Truly.”

~

“Six more teams down, it’s getting ridiculous,” said Clarissa, as the Butterflies had their first official weekly dinner in the second week of term.

“They recover quickly though,” said Tara, as she dished out the salad for everyone before passing the plates to Adi who was serving up the pasta. “Christ Church was the first team down and they are back to it this week.”

“What’s weird though is that the team from Oriel is the latest one to get sick,” said Rose, as she poured wine for everyone.

“Why is that weird?” asked Shanaya.

“The popular theory is that everyone is getting sick on purpose to avoid facing Oriel at the Torpids,” explained Miranda.

“That’s the stupidest thing I have ever heard,” said Shanaya.

“You’re not wrong,” agreed Tara. 

“Sorry, I’m late,” said Maura, as she walked in. “My college is in panic.”

“Let me guess, your men’s college boat club is sick,” said Clarissa.

Maura nodded, as she sat down at the table. “This looks good, Adi, Tara,” she said, glancing around at the pasta, salad and cheese-covered garlic bread laid out on the table.

“We thought it best to keep it simple,” said Adi, smiling gratefully. “There’s tiramisu from the Chocolate Mill for dessert.”

“I definitely need more salad if we have Paula’s tiramisu,” said Tara, and everyone laughed in agreement.

The Chocolate Mill’s proximity was a blessing and a curse, because it meant that inevitably someone would buy something on their way to the Chrysalis. 

Everyone started tucking in, and for a few minutes, they all ate in silence.

“I think we should look into it,” said Shanaya, after a moment.

“Look into what?” asked Miranda.

“The poisoning,” said Shanaya.

“The university is already investigating,” said Maura. “Besides, I doubt there are aliens involved.”

“No, I’m with Shanaya,” said Clarissa. “If we do find something, we can just report it.”

Everyone looked at Rose, and she supposed it was her decision as the President of the Butterflies. “Let’s do it,” said Rose. “If anyone feels uncomfortable participating, I won’t blame them for backing out, though.”

“You’re joking, right?” asked Adi, as everyone else looked at her incredulously. “Have you met us?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” said Rose, as the rest of them chuckled. “I had to say it, though.”

“So, let’s start from the beginning,” said Clarissa. “Nine teams have been affected so far. Christ Church, Somerville, Exeter, Balliol, Keble, Trinity, Magdalen, Worcester, Oriel and Brasenose. In that order.”

“Could it have something to do with the intercollegiate party that Hertford hosted last week?” asked Maura.

“That would be a good place to poison the teams,” nodded Shanaya.

“Rose and I were at the party too,” said Miranda. “Neither of us got sick.”

“Could it be something just the teams would have eaten?” asked Clarissa.

“No, Paula catered the event, and trust me, I had some of everything,” said Rose.

“God, I want to go to an event catered by Paula,” sighed Shanaya.

“It’s a bit weird though,” said Adi. “Getting a chocolatier to cater an event for athletes, I mean.”

“I assume it’s because Paula’s brother is on the Hertford team,” said Miranda.

“He is?” asked Shanaya.

“Yeah, Jim Ramos,” said Rose. “Apparently, she did it at a massive discount.”

“That would be why,” nodded Tara. “It would be quite expensive to cater an event that big.”

“Not to mention the gift boxes for every team to take with them after the event,” said Rose absently, taking a sip of her wine. The penny dropped at the same time for almost everyone, and they all looked at each other. 

“The gift boxes…?” asked Maura.

“It’s certainly possible,” said Adi.

“Hang on, are we saying Paula poisoned them?” asked Rose, disbelievingly.

“No,” said Shanaya. “It makes more sense that someone else poisoned the gift boxes, knowing the teams would have them.”

“Who would even have access to it?” asked Tara.

“I hate to say it,” began Adi, and Rose turned to her.

“You think it was Jim,” realised Rose.

“It’s possible,” said Clarissa. “Actually, it is very likely.”

“How do we even prove that?” asked Adi.

“I think we are jumping ahead a few steps,” said Miranda. 

“Miranda’s right,” said Maura. “We need to work out what the circumstances were and who was likely to have access to the gift boxes, apart from Paula.”

“I vote we go to the Chocolate Mill for hot chocolate after dinner,” said Clarissa.

“So long as we don’t harass the poor woman,” said Maura, firmly.

With agreement from the others, the Butterflies finished their dinner and cleaned up before leaving the Chrysalis and walking to the Chocolate Mill. Closing time was only fifteen minutes away so the shop was empty, except for Paula, who was happy to make them all a cup of hot chocolate to take away.

“You girls are responsible for so much of my business, I’m sure you can buy a share in another month,” said Paula, as she began making fresh hot chocolate.

“We would just eat the merchandise, unfortunately,” said Clarissa. 

“Speaking of which, I was telling them about the party you catered for the boat clubs,” said Rose. 

“Yes, that was quite nice. A lot of work, but it’s been bringing in customers,” said Paula.

“Did you have any help putting together all of it?” asked Maura.

“I did,” nodded Paula. “I hired another chocolatier and two bakers for preparation, and then two part-time servers to set it all up.”

“What about the gift boxes?” asked Adi. “We heard they were a huge hit, too.”

“The gift boxes I made myself,” said Paula, and then frowned. “Why?”

“No reason, just seems like a lot to do by yourself,” said Shanaya, quickly.

“Oh, well, I did it,” said Paula, and handed them their takeaway cups.

Sensing they were being asked to politely leave, they all thanked her and left. 

“That wasn’t helpful at all,” said Clarissa.

“I disagree,” said Miranda. “The gift boxes were set alongside the rest of the food. Each one of them was marked with the team it was meant for. If she hired people to set up the food, it is likely they set that up as well.”

“You’re right,” said Clarissa, and then ducked her head back into the shop. “Sorry, Paula, just a quick question. Who were the people you hired to help you set up?”

Paula, who was in the middle of cleaning the counter, frowned again. “Uh, two girls from Oriel. Madison Wu and Penny Smithson.”

“Thanks,” said Clarissa, but she must have seen the look on Rose’s face. “What?”

Rose nodded at them to return to the Chrysalis so they wouldn’t disturb Paula. “Penny Smithson is dating the best oarsman at Oriel,” she said, once they were back in the sitting room.

“The one everyone considers a threat?” asked Shanaya.

“Gough, yeah,” nodded Rose.

“But Oriel’s team was poisoned too,” pointed out Tara. “Why would she poison her own boyfriend?”

“Maybe that is exactly what she wanted to do,” said Adi. 

“And poisoned eight other teams to hide that?” asked Maura, in disbelief.

“Again, we keep jumping to conclusions,” said Miranda. “We don’t even know if the gift boxes were poisoned.”

Adi bit her lip contemplatively. “We could find out,” she said.

“Find out if the gift boxes were poisoned?” asked Rose.

“No, find out if there was a reason Penny wanted to poison her boyfriend,” she said, and then rummaged in her bank and pulled out her laptop. 

“You’re hacking?” asked Tara, scandalised.

“Just into her email,” said Adi, typing away at her laptop.

“If we are right, she poisoned nine teams, maybe more,” said Shanaya, looking at Tara. “If it had gotten out that the gift boxes were poisoned, Paula’s business would have been ruined. People would have also wrongfully accused her brother of being the saboteur. We have to investigate.”

“Do you really think she will have anything in her email about it?” asked Miranda.

“Not if she’s anything like me,” said Maura. “I would cover my tracks and buy it in person with cash before coming to Oxford.”

“Well, the good news is that she is not like you,” said Adi. “She ordered cadmium yellow on the internet.”

“You’re kidding,” said Rose, as they crowded behind Adi to read what was on the screen. “She ordered it before Christmas.”

“It might only have been delivered now,” said Shanaya. 

“Cadmium pigments are mostly used in artwork or colouring glass. It should be safe, for the most part, but if she sprayed them on the chocolates and the oarsmen ate them, it would explain why they got sick,” said Maura.

“Isn’t heavy metal poisoning supposed to be deadly?” asked Tara.

“Prolonged exposure can be deadly, yes,” said Miranda. “What do we do?”

“We report it, of course,” said Tara.

“We have no evidence,” said Shanaya. “All this email tells her that she ordered cadmium yellow. She could say she has a hobby.”

“We could confront her,” suggested Clarissa.

“Without evidence?” asked Shanaya. “No, we need to think of something else.”

“I have an idea,” said Rose, slowly. “Adi, can you create a fake student email?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” said Adi. “What are we doing with it?”

“We send an email to the university’s administration that says that we heard that the boat clubs were poisoned with cadmium,” said Rose. “It was snuck into the gift boxes given to them at the end of the night at the Hertford party. And at the end of the email, we just speculate and say that whoever helped either prepare or set up the gift boxes should be investigated to see if they bought cadmium.”

“That’s dangerous,” said Tara.

“So is cadmium,” said Maura.

“We could be wrong,” said Miranda.

“But this way, it will make the university investigate,” said Shanaya. “I think it’s a good plan. If we are completely off the mark then the university investigates and dispels the rumour. The worst that will do is bring us back to square one.”

“Shanaya’s right,” said Maura. “We are not naming Penny or her boyfriend or saying there was a conspiracy.”

“We have to be careful about the way we write it, though,” said Miranda. “We don’t want to destroy Paula’s business.”

“That’s why I suggested an email instead of posting on the university forums,” said Rose.

“I’m in,” said Adi. One by one, people voiced their agreement, even Tara, who had been the most reluctant one. “What name should we have on the email?”

“Jennie Correll,” said Tara. When everyone just stared at her, she shrugged. “The man who wrote Madame Butterfly based the story on his sister’s recollections. Her name was Jennie Correll.” 

“Jennie Correll, it is,” said Adi. With help from the rest of them, the email was drafted and then promptly emailed.

With a slightly subdued air around them, the Butterflies all departed the Chrysalis for the night.

~

The payoff came two weeks later when Penny Smithson was arrested on the suspicion of maliciously administering poison. The university released a statement that they found cadmium in the system of affected students, who then received prompt treatment. Jake told Rose that the university had just confiscated all the gift boxes given out at their party and refused to divulge any reasons. 

Another day or two after that, the newspaper reported that Penny Smithson had pleaded guilty to all charges. It turned out she had wished to get her boyfriend sick so he could not participate in training or any races, and had decided to poison a few more teams to cover her tracks.

Rose and the rest of the Butterflies were happy to just observe it from the sidelines, satisfied that they had done all they could to ensure that the right authorities could investigate the matter and put it to bed. 

The Penny Smithson case was all everyone would talk about around the university these days, but for the Butterflies, life went on as usual, their secret safe for now.


	11. The Pink Orchid

“There’s no place like home,” laughed Miranda, as she collapsed on the sofa in the living room.

Rose laughed as well and finished her glass of wine. “We have been back in London for almost two weeks already,” she said.

“I know!” exclaimed Miranda, cheeks flushed because of the alcohol. “It seemed like it was Christmas a week ago but we are almost at the end of March. I don’t even seem to remember the Hilary Term.”

Rose didn’t blame her; compared to the Michaelmas Term, the Hilary Term had been almost boring in that nothing really happened. Rose went to her classes and did lab work, had weekly dinners with the Butterflies, and spent time with friends. None of the odd and unexplained crossed her path, and Rose didn’t want to admit it, but she kind of missed it a bit.

“So, what are we doing tomorrow?” asked Miranda, looking at Rose.

“Lunch with River,” said Rose. “And then out to dinner with Mum, Shareen and Mickey. And knowing Shareen, she will drag us out dancing after that.”

“Sounds like fun,” laughed Miranda. “I can’t wait for you to see your gift,” she added, and then glanced at the clock on the wall. “Actually, it’s only ten minutes to midnight. You should open it now.”

Rose smiled indulgently and picked up the gift that was sitting on the dining table. It was a sizable box wrapped in bright pink wrapping paper that had the words ‘Happy Birthday’ written on it in cheerful, bubbly letters. Rose unwrapped the gift carefully and opened the box to find a pair of black knee-length leather boots with a block heel. 

“They’re gorgeous,” said Rose, her eyes lighting up. 

“I’m glad,” beamed Miranda. “They were on sale last week.”

Rose set the box down and gave Miranda a hug. “Thank you, I love them.” 

“I like going shopping,” said Miranda. “Your mum helped me pick them.”

“Thanks,” said Rose. “And thanks for indulging my mum. I know she appreciates it too.”

Miranda smiled wistfully. “I’m not just doing it to be nice,” she admitted. “I like your mum. She’s a good person.”

“Oh, I know that,” said Rose, easily. “But she can be a bit overbearing at times.” She paused and chose her next words carefully. “What was your mum like?”

Miranda’s smile dimmed but then it grew again, tinged with melancholy. “My mum...was brilliant. Everyone always said my dad was the smart one, but they had it wrong. She could do anything, and my Dad said she could rule the universe, if she wanted.” Miranda glanced briefly at Rose, who was paying rapt attention. “She always had my back. Anything I wanted to do...I knew she would be right there. I never thought there would be a day when I wouldn’t have her.” 

“I’m sorry,” said Rose.

Miranda shrugged. “It’s stupid, I know. I mean, everyone has to live without their parents at one point or another. I guess...I just wasn’t ready to say goodbye to them,” she said, and finished the last bit of wine from her glass. “I should go to bed.”

Rose nodded, unable to think of anything to say as Miranda stumbled upstairs to bed. Rose was not all that drunk, so she set about clearing the empty wine bottles and putting the glasses in the dishwasher. She threw away the wrapping paper and put the new boots away in the shoe cupboard. Satisfied that the living room looked clean enough, Rose was about to head up to bed herself when she heard a knock on the front door.

Frowning deeply, Rose glanced at the time. It had just struck midnight and she was a bit wary as she went to the door. The street which housed Miranda’s townhouse was in a safe neighbourhood, and she and Miranda had come home at all times of the night, with only a hint of trepidation, rather than the all-out vigilance that any other part of London would elicit.

Rose looked out through the glass next to the door and saw there was no one waiting outside. However, sitting on the welcome mat, was a bouquet of flowers. Relaxing slightly, Rose opened the door and double checked to make sure there was no one around before she picked up the bouquet, noticing it was a bouquet of pink orchids. She waited to close and lock the door before she set the bouquet down on the coffee table and pulled out the little card stuck in the flowers.

Happy 19th birthday, Rose. I hope you like the flowers, I grew them myself - Etain

“Of course,” muttered Rose, amused. No wonder she hadn’t seen anyone and the flowers had seemingly materialised out of nowhere. Shaking her head at Etain’s antics but grateful just the same, Rose turned off the lights downstairs and carried the bouquet to her room.

Her room in Miranda’s townhouse was quite spacious, and apart from her bed, dresser and vanity, there was room for a desk and a chair as well. Rose set the card and the bouquet on her desk and then proceeded to get ready for bed.

Teeth brushed, hair combed and skin moisturised, Rose changed into her favourite fleece pyjamas and eased into bed. She could see the pink orchids from where she was lying down and she smiled to herself and closed her eyes.

~

River was busy writing in her journal when her phone rang. She clicked her tongue in irritation and answered it without looking.

“Hello?”

“She won’t wake!”

River sat up at the frantic voice, nearly unrecognisable because River had never heard such fear in it.

“Slow down, what happened?” asked River. There was frantic muttering on the other end of the line, which River could not understand. “Miranda!” she added, sharply.

“She won’t wake up,” said Miranda.

“Who won’t?” asked River, as dread filled her being. “Miranda? Is it Rose? Has something happened to her?”

“Please get here,” said Miranda. “I don’t know what to do.”

River sprang to her feet. “I’m on my way,” she said, picking up her keys and rushing out. The drive to Dulwich was quick, and the door to Miranda’s townhouse sprang open before River could even knock.

Miranda stood in the doorway, still in her pyjamas, messy hair stood on end, and an expression of fear and panic on her face.

The sense of dread grew worse in River’s stomach. “What happened?” she asked.

“Come with me,” said Miranda, turning around and making her way upstairs.

River closed the door behind her and followed Miranda to one of the bedrooms. It was a nicely decorated room but what held River’s attention was Rose on the bed. Asleep.

Miranda had tears in her eyes and she was worrying her fingers agitatedly, as she looked between Rose and River.

Knowing there would be more to it, River slowly walked toward the bed and then realised how intensely still Rose appeared to be. Terrified, River slowly placed her fingers on Rose’s pulse and nearly sagged in relief.

“She’s breathing,” said Miranda. “But she won’t wake.”

River nodded and then shook her shoulder lightly. Rose stayed resolutely asleep, which made River worry. Rose wasn’t a deep sleeper, not in the slightest. With numb fingers, River reached into her pockets and pulled out a medical scanner.

She quickly ran a scan on Rose, even as her hands shook with tension.

“What’s wrong with her?” asked Miranda.

The scanner beeped and finished its job. “Nothing,” said River, reading the results with disbelief. “She’s completely fine. Asleep, but completely fine.”

“That’s clearly not true!” said Miranda, her voice raising angrily.

“Miranda, please calm down,” said River, trying not to let her own fear show.

“Do not tell me to calm down!” shouted Miranda, and River flinched at the authority in her tone. 

River held up her hands. “Miranda, we need to run more tests to see what’s wrong with her. Unfortunately, I don’t really have the resources here that would be able to help.”

“I don’t either,” said Miranda, the fight draining out of her apparently. “When I came to Earth in this time, I didn’t come with anything at all.”

River nodded; having known that. Miranda looked slightly irritated that River seemed to know about the circumstances in which she had arrived on Earth, but River’s attention was back on Rose.

“We need help,” said River. “Usually I would call Jack, but he and his team are in Scotland on a mission.”

“This Jack, Rose told me he’s a time traveller,” said Miranda, and River realised that Miranda had never met Jack. 

“Yes,” said River. “He’s a Time Agent from the 51st century and currently leads Torchwood Three.” She paused and looked at Miranda. “All of this…”

“...is to be kept from Rose, I know,” nodded Miranda, without missing a beat. “Who else do you have?”

River weighed up her options and glanced at Rose before looking at Miranda. “Let me make a call.”

~

Miranda Dawkins was not a nervous person by habit. If anything, she was ridiculously confident, a trait her parents nurtured deeply. She always thought she took after them in that regard, but her mother would always assure her that Miranda had surpassed her parents when it came to that particular trait.

But even as confident as she could usually be, she still had her weaknesses. As River went downstairs to make the phone call and left Miranda alone with Rose, Miranda paced back and forth nervously, eyes fixed on Rose’s sleeping form on the bed. A sudden thought occurred to her and she stopped and stared at Rose.

_Maybe she could...it was worth a try…_

Miranda had already taken a few steps toward Rose and was leaning over her before she realised. 

“What are you doing?” 

Miranda jumped and turned around when she heard River. Miranda realised she had raised her hands toward Rose’s temple and hastily pulled them away.

“You know you can’t do that,” said River, sternly.

“I know,” said Miranda, exhaling heavily. “I’m sorry...I just…”

River’s eyes softened in understanding. “Help is on its way. In fact…” Her words were cut off as the townhouse was filled with the sound of a familiar wheezing and groaning sound. “He’s already here.”

Miranda took a deep breath and wiped her tears. It wouldn’t do for her to look as distraught as she felt. It didn’t occur to her in that moment that River would not have been able to contact the Doctor; the one that Rose knew anyway.

The man that walked in was young, with floppy brown hair, a wide chin and brilliant green eyes. He was wearing a tweed suit of purple, and a matching bow tie around his neck. 

Miranda felt the ground under her feet vanish and she nearly stumbled to the floor. The Doctor, because who else would it be really, smiled softly at Miranda.

“Hello, my love,” he said, voice gentle as ever.

Miranda let out a sob and ran straight into his arms. He caught her without issue and hugged her tightly, stroking the back of her head as she cried into his shoulder. She felt his grip on her tighten and Miranda could not have stopped her tears if she tried.

“Oh, dearest, I am so sorry,” he murmured and pressed a kiss to her temple. “You must have been so frightened.”

Miranda pulled away and met his gaze. “I…”

“I know, I know,” he said, cupping her face with both his hands. 

Miranda chuckled, of course he knew. “I missed you,” she said, anyway.

“I missed you too, my love,” he said, with a bright smile. “I know you have a lot of questions and I will answer all of them, but first…”

Miranda remembered Rose and quickly turned around. “Of course,” she said, releasing the Doctor. The Doctor pressed a kiss to her forehead before he strode over to Rose, pulling out a sonic screwdriver which he then used to scan her.

“She was fine yesterday,” said Miranda. “But then she didn’t come down for breakfast this morning so I came in to wake her up...and she wouldn’t wake up.”

“She’s in a deep sleep,” said the Doctor, looking at the results on his sonic screwdriver. “It’s certainly been brought on by something.” He glanced around the room and then inclined his head at the flowers on Rose’s desk. “Huh,” he frowned as he walked over to them, and then plucked a petal and put it into his mouth. 

“Doctor,” admonished River, as he made a face and spit it out.

“That tastes foul,” he declared, pointing an accusing finger at the orchids. “Who sent these to her?”

“I-I don’t know,” said Miranda. “She didn’t have them yesterday.” 

The Doctor glanced around and then frowned. “There’s no card,” he said. 

“Is there something wrong with the flowers?” asked River. The Doctor plucked another petal and handed it to her. River took it cautiously and gave it a sniff before rearing back. “What the hell?” she asked.

“What?” asked Miranda, as River looked bewildered.

“The flowers are fake,” said the Doctor. “Well, more precisely, these are artificial orchids.”

River passed her the petal and Miranda rubbed it gently between her fingers. “But it feels real,” said Miranda.

“It does,” he said. “Try tearing it.”

Miranda tore the petal slightly and jumped back as a fine pink mist dissipated from the tear. She felt the soporific take effect but then her respiratory bypass kicked in and she shook away the drowsiness before she could lose her footing. “What do we do?” she asked, realising someone had deliberately sent them to Rose. While the petal needed to be torn for the effect to kick in immediately, Miranda had no doubt the flowers had been leaching mist through the night which explained the deep sleep Rose had fallen into.

“Remove the flowers for one,” said the Doctor. “The effect should wear off gradually once the source is gone. There is a faster way, of course.”

“Then do that one,” said Miranda, immediately feeling relieved. 

“He can’t,” said River. “Not yet.”

“Why not?” demanded Miranda. “Dad?”

The Doctor, who had been staring at Rose, looked at her. “Miranda…”

“No! Tell me why you can’t wake Mum right now,” said Miranda, forgetting to even keep up appearances, though she vaguely supposed it wouldn’t matter to anyone in the room who could currently hear her.

“I will, I promise you I will, my love,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders. “But first, I must find out who was behind this. And I cannot investigate while Rose is awake. This is too early in her timeline to see me.” Miranda swallowed roughly but nodded. “Why don’t you get dressed? River can stay and keep an eye on Rose, and you can help me investigate.”

Miranda agreed and hurried away to her room. She heard her father and River speaking in quiet tones but she couldn’t hear what was being said, even with her part Time Lord hearing. She quickly changed out of her pyjamas and into a pair of jeans and t-shirt, and brushed her hair into a ponytail. She grabbed her denim jacket on the way out and returned to Rose’s room.

“I’m ready,” she said.

The Doctor nodded and glanced at River.

“I’ll watch over Rose,” she assured the Doctor. Or both of them, maybe.

“Thank you, River,” said the Doctor, as he gathered the pink orchids. “Come along, Miranda.”

Miranda followed after him, and was surprised when she saw the TARDIS sitting in the middle of the living room. The sight of the familiar ship which had been more of a home to her than the planet she’d been born on, lifted Miranda’s spirits despite the circumstances. The Doctor smiled at her as he unlocked the door and held his hand out gallantly toward her.

She couldn’t help but giggle as she placed her hand in his and let him lead her inside like a proper lady. The momentary bit of amusement left her as she saw the unfamiliar interior of the TARDIS, which abruptly reminded her that while this was her father, it wasn’t quite the right version.

“How long has it been?” she asked, as he let go of her hand before setting the flowers down on the console and fiddling with the controls.

He paused and glanced at her briefly. “A long time,” he said, and then set the diagnostic systems into action before turning to her. “Ask your questions.”

Miranda slowly stepped deeper into the TARDIS. “Where’s Mum?”

“When River called, she knew she couldn’t be here. The web of time is not as stable as it used to be, so she wanted to be as far away as possible to avoid a paradox,” he explained.

Miranda nodded, having suspected that. She thought about his words and took a deep breath before asking the next question. “The web of time destabilising...does it…” She took another breath and kept his gaze locked on his. “What happened? With the War?”

She saw the heartbroken look on her father’s face but he didn’t speak. Miranda took another deep breath.

“When I woke up on Earth, I could no longer hear them. Or you and Mum, for that matter,” she said. “What happened? Did the Daleks win?”

“No,” he said, finally. “No, the Daleks did not win. But neither did we.”

Miranda nodded slowly, fighting back tears at the look of abject sorrow and regret on his face. She knew he must be blocking his telepathic signature (or perhaps her ring was obscuring the familial bond) but she didn’t need the telepathic connection to know how he was feeling, even on an unfamiliar face.

“We ended the Time War, your mother and I,” he said, his voice grave. “With help from some allies. And in the end, Rose and I were all that remained standing. It’s all gone now...Gallifrey, Time Lords, all of it.”

Horror filled Miranda’s being at the picture it painted. She could not imagine what it must have been like...could not even comprehend. Regardless of her feelings, Gallifrey had still been home. She had still been one of the Time Lords. There had been family; people who had loved her, without giving in to the prejudice. 

“I should have been there,” said Miranda, in a low voice. “I could have helped.”

“No, you could not have,” said the Doctor, seriously. “No one could have helped.”

“You don’t know that,” argued Miranda.

“Yes, I do!” he thundered, and Miranda immediately shut her mouth. 

Her father rarely raised his voice, and she could honestly say there was only one other occasion when he’d raised his voice at her specifically.

“What we did, what I did,” he said, slowly. “It was the last option, the only option. And trust me, my love, if your mother hadn’t sent you away, I would not have been able to walk into that war. I would not have had the courage to do what I did.”

Miranda just stared at him in stunned silence, but the Doctor turned away when the console beeped.

“That’s odd,” he said, frowning at one of the screens. Miranda joined him slowly and read the results as well.

“Fae?” she asked, surprised.

“I did a scan of the surroundings and this was the only anomalous signature that the TARDIS detected,” he said. “You didn’t have one of them drop by, did you?”

“No,” said Miranda. “But Mum’s friendly with them.”

“Yes, despite everything I keep telling her,” he sighed, and the familiar exasperation cheered her up a little despite their previous conversation. “Let’s see...2005 and it’s March, so who does she know at this point?”

“Etain and Violet, as far as she’s told me,” said Miranda.

“Violet’s harmless,” said the Doctor. “And while Etain is a nuisance, she holds Rose in high regard. I doubt she would have harmed her.”

“Well, Etain had mentioned to Mum previously that she could not remain in one place for a long time since she was in danger,” said Miranda, thoughtfully. “Could it have been Midir?”

The Doctor tilted his head and then narrowed his eyes. “It’s certainly possible,” he said. “I’m not sure how he would have found Rose, though.”

Miranda’s brow wrinkled. “She’s shielded?” she asked, confused. “Even at such an early point in her timeline?”

“She has always been shielded,” said the Doctor. “By her own design.”

Miranda nodded, having long been used to learning these things about her mother. “But since when do fae use artificial flowers?” she asked.

“Good point,” said the Doctor. “Let’s ask them, shall we?” The Doctor began the dematerialisation sequence, and Miranda relished in the familiar pull of the vortex as the TARDIS glided through space and time toward their destination.

“So, who is River, exactly?” asked Miranda, after a few moments of comfortable silence.

The Doctor smiled. “She is a dear friend of mine,” he said. 

“And you trust her?” asked Miranda.

“With my life,” he said, without missing a beat.

Miranda nodded, heartened. “I don’t think I was very nice to her,” she admitted. “Mum would be disappointed.”

The Doctor chuckled. “Yes, she would,” she said. “Rose is very fond of River.”

“I’ve noticed,” said Miranda.

The TARDIS landed and Miranda opened the doors. The TARDIS had landed in a field of rolling green grass, where a cool, steady breeze blew around them. 

“Where are we?” asked Miranda, as she stepped out.

“A little outside of Ardagh in County Longford,” said the Doctor, closing the TARDIS doors behind himself.

“In Ireland?” asked Miranda.

“Yes,” he said, and then gave her an encouraging look. “Go on.”

“What?” asked Miranda, confused. He smiled at her and the penny dropped. “Here?”

He spread his arms wide, indicating the empty expanse. “No one around,” he pointed out. “It’s perfectly safe.”

Miranda smiled back at him and closed her eyes. It took a moment but then her mind engaged, and a series of images flashed behind her closed eyelids. She saw a golden-haired woman turn into a scarlet fly and rest on the shoulder of a man on a brown horse. The fly flew away and the man kicked the horse into a gallop and rode through the very field they were in before circling a small area of the field nearby and vanishing into thin air.

“Found it,” she said, and opened her eyes. 

“Lead the way,” said the Doctor.

Miranda started walking toward the part of the field where she had seen the man on the horse disappear, aware that the Doctor was right behind her.

“Here,” she said, coming to a stop.

“Don’t stop on my account,” said the Doctor.

“Wouldn’t the sonic screwdriver make this easier?” she asked, amused.

“Yes, it would,” he admitted. “But, this is good practice for you.”

Miranda gave him an annoyed look, but nodded in agreement. Extending her right hand in front of her, palm spread wide, she focused on what she had been taught. It took longer for the connection to engage, and Miranda felt sweat erupt on her brow despite the cool breeze.

“Don’t push it,” she heard the Doctor murmur. “This is a part of you, and you command it.”

Miranda felt herself relax as a familiar golden warmth surrounded her and brought a smile to her face. She opened her eyes as a doorway materialised in the veil between the human and the fae world.

“Well done,” she heard the Doctor praise.

The warmth around her slowly dissipated and Miranda’s smile turned into a full-blown grin. “It worked,” she said.

The Doctor squeezed her shoulder. “Of course it did,” he said, as if he’d never doubted it. 

“I’m struggling, still,” she admitted.

“I know, my love,” he said. “It is a difficult thing to channel the vortex through your being. For you, it’s even harder because the Time Lord half of you struggles against the unnatural power of the vortex.”

“I never understood that,” said Miranda, as the Doctor raised his fist and knocked twice on the door. “Uncle Brax used to say Time Lords and the vortex are two sides of the same aberrant coin, but that makes no sense.”

The Doctor chuckled. “Time Lords are bound to the vortex, no matter how much they claimed it was the other way around,” he said. “Do you remember what it was like?” She looked at him questioningly. “Gallifrey,” he clarified. “Before the War.”

Before she could answer, the door swung open and a young male fairy in a red tunic looked at them with surprise. “Unearthly,” he hissed, his face curling in disgust.

Miranda bristled, but the Doctor seemed unperturbed. “Take us to Midir,” he ordered, and Miranda shivered at the power of the Oncoming Storm. 

He had managed to appear very calm from the moment he had arrived at the townhouse, she realised suddenly, but he had to have been furious. Her mother had been hurt; a fact that would see anyone foolish enough to have a part in such an endeavour face the unbridled wrath of the Oncoming Storm. Subconsciously, she moved a little behind him, letting him take the lead as the fairy led them past the doorway into Midir’s kingdom.

Miranda had never been inside a fairy kingdom before and she was woefully unimpressed with Midir’s. A few fairies lounged here and there around the plain green meadow of Midir’s court while a nude, golden-haired male fairy sat atop a throne of scarlet flowers with a canopy of pink orchids overhead. Several servants surrounded him, catering to his whims, with slightly frightened looks on their faces.

The sight of the familiar flowers made Miranda glare at Midir, who looked amused at her anger.

“What brings you to my kingdom, unearthly ones?” he asked, his voice sharp as a whistle. 

The Doctor chuckled, and the sound was without humour. Miranda shivered as the air around them grew colder. If she hadn’t seen the alarmed looks on the faces of the fairies, she would have thought they were the ones responsible for the change.

Midir looked unmoved as he raised a hand and the temperature returned to normal.

“Impressive,” said the Doctor, sounding genuine in his praise. “I always found the technology of your kind fascinating.”

“Magic,” hissed Midir. “Not technology.”

“Magic, yes,” agreed the Doctor. He stepped toward Midir deliberately, even as a few fairies around tensed defensively. “Tell me, Midir, what magic was it that you used to cast Rose Tyler into a deep sleep?”

“I have no knowledge of what you speak of,” said Midir, turning his nose up slightly.

The Doctor didn’t stop until he had reached Midir’s throne and without taking his eyes off Midir, he reached up and plucked a petal from the canopy of orchids, which he then promptly put in his mouth.

“Yuck,” he declared, spitting it back out, either ignorant of the appalled looks on everyone’s faces or just not caring for them. “Those are the real deal.”

“The orchids aren’t artificial?” asked Miranda, surprised. She walked up to the Doctor and plucked a petal for herself.

“Natural as they come!” he declared and looked at Midir, who still looked a bit amused but his features had grown sharper. “But...you know more than you are letting on as well.”

Midir chuckled and stood up. Miranda averted her eyes quickly, cheeks turning pink. Her mother would have found it amusing, she realised with mortification. But it seemed like her Time Lord sensibilities ran deep, and having a nude fairy in front of her was a bit too much for her composure. She shuffled a bit behind her father, who seemed unperturbed.

“I told him you would find your way here,” said Midir. “He seemed confident you wouldn’t make the connection, but he was a rather short-sighted one.”

“Who are you talking about?” asked Miranda.

“An unearthly,” said Midir. “He came to my Court to acquire some of my orchids and replicate them in an artificial form that he could embed with our poison.”

“Poison?” asked Miranda. “Designed to kill?”

“Of course, child,” he said, like she was particularly dense which made her grit her teeth in anger. He tilted his head. “But I assume your Rose is not dead.”

“She’s in a deep sleep,” said the Doctor.

Midir nodded. “The flowers must not have been too close,” he said. “Usually, people place them on their bedside tables.”

Miranda was never more grateful for her mother’s messy habits and the fact that her bedside table had virtually no free space.

“If you knew he was going to poison someone, why did you help him?” demanded Miranda.

Midir sighed. “The fairies you see around you are all that remain of my kingdom,” he said. “My kind is dying. Slowly, but surely. This planet is outgrowing us and reaching toward the stars, pushing us further and further behind the veil until we eventually disappear.”

Miranda blinked in surprise. “What did he offer you?”

Midir hesitated but glanced around his court, at the fairies who looked frightened. “I invited unearthly technology into my kingdom to protect what is left,” he admitted finally. 

“You fortified the boundary between your world and the human world,” said the Doctor, with a tone of realisation.

“That explains why it was harder to open the door,” said Miranda.

“Yes, I was surprised you managed it,” said Midir, narrowing his eyes at Miranda. “I expected the Time Lord would have the technology but it wasn’t technology that opened the door in the veil. It was magic.”

“It was hardly magic,” argued Miranda.

Midir suddenly lunged toward her but the Doctor stepped in front of her protectively, without missing a beat. Midir seemed unperturbed as he inhaled deeply. “You have the scent of the wolf about you, little one,” he said, looking at Miranda. “It’s not you, of course,” he added, and then glanced at the Doctor quickly before looking back at her. “Family, perhaps.”

“Enough,” said the Doctor, unamused. “Answer the question.”

Midir leaned away. “And what question would that be?”

“Who was the unearthly?” asked the Doctor. “And why did he want to harm Rose?”

“I’ll tell you, but I require something in return,” he said.

“I am not making a deal with you,” said the Doctor.

“Then you can seek your answers elsewhere,” said Midir.

“Or I trap you in an eternal loop of monotony,” said the Doctor, as the fairies hissed in fear at the mention of the most tortuous form of punishment for their kind.

Midir’s nostrils flared in anger but he nodded. “Fine, not a deal then,” he said. “A favour. I...will owe you a favour if you do this.”

Miranda’s eyebrows shot up, and she glanced at the Doctor, who nodded back.

“You will tell Etain...that I will not pursue her any longer,” he said. “She needn’t continue uprooting her life. I give my word as a king to all who hear it, that I will let her go.”

Whatever the favour, Miranda had figured it would have to do with Etain, but she was still surprised. 

“Fine,” said the Doctor. “You have my word that I will inform Etain about this.”

Midir nodded. “The unearthly you look for is named Troiton,” he said, and Miranda noticed that the Doctor tensed. “He claimed you and your Rose had been responsible for imprisoning him and he wished revenge.”

“Even if he gave you what you wanted, why did you help him, knowing we will trace the poison and the flowers back to you?” asked Miranda.

“I have heard of the Time Lord’s reputation,” said Midir, looking at the Doctor. “I have heard that he is a being of kindness and rationality. I gambled on his kindness.”

“How very reckless of you. I am not as kind as I used to be,” said the Doctor. “Come along, Miranda, time we left.”

“Do you know where Troiton is now?” asked Miranda, looking back at Midir.

“No, but I expect the Time Lord does,” said Midir, and raised his hand in farewell.

The Doctor turned around and started leaving, and Miranda followed him after a moment. As they reached the door, the Doctor turned around and looked at Midir.

“If I hear you are aiding in harming any other humans, I will come back,” he warned.

Without waiting for Midir’s response, the Doctor let the threat hang in his wake as he and Miranda emerged back into the human realm. 

~

The TARDIS materialised slowly on the secure asteroid of Swanbrook which housed the Glassheart Collective’s maximum security prison. 

The Glassheart Collective was a collection of twenty six planets, three hundred and two natural and artificial satellites, and two hundred and twelve individual asteroids toward the centre of the Milky Way. The Collective was governed by a Supreme Leader and a Council with representatives from each of the intelligent species residing within the Collective. 

It was a diverse, rich civilisation with advanced technology, a thriving social and cultural scene, and an engaged political climate. Even their maximum security prison was focused less on detention and more on rehabilitation.

When the TARDIS arrived on Swanbrook, it did not set off any apparent blaring alarms, but there were two armour-clad automated guards waiting outside the doors. The Doctor and Miranda stepped out, and one of the guards stepped forward with a scanner in their hand.

“Scanning,” said the mechanised voice, holding the scanner toward the Doctor. “Complete. Name: Doctor. Species: Time Lord. Affiliation: Ally.”

“Sounds about right,” smiled the Doctor, as the guard moved toward Miranda.

“Scanning,” said the mechanised voice and Miranda tried not to fidget. “Complete. Name: Mirandarosemarion Blyledge. Species: Time Lord. Affiliation: Ally.” 

Miranda was unsurprised that their scanner had registered her species as Time Lord because despite their advancement, the Collective was still relatively young with their technology which wasn’t advanced enough to pick up the nuances in her genetic makeup. She was impressed that they had picked up her name though, and she realised it hadn’t been since Gallifrey that anyone had used her full name.

The first guard stepped back and the second one approached them. “Welcome to Swanbrook,” they greeted. “Please state the purpose of your visit.”

“I understand you are missing a prisoner,” said the Doctor. “Troiton Belleur.”

“Correction, Troiton Belleur is no longer a prisoner,” said the guard. “Troiton Belleur has been rehabilitated.”

“Clearly not,” muttered Miranda.

“Completely rehabilitated, or just conditionally released?” asked the Doctor.

There was obvious hesitation. “Conditionally released,” admitted the guard.

“Yes, well, how long has he been out?” asked the Doctor.

“Two days,” said the guard, and then seemed to arrive at a decision. “Summoning Warden Pule.”

The Doctor and Miranda waited as the guard sent a message to the warden, who arrived a few moments later. Warden Pule was humanoid in appearance with deep pink skin, black eyes with no discernable sclera, and no obvious hair on their head. They were wearing neatly pressed dark grey trousers and a plain white tunic top with long sleeves.

“Welcome to Swanbrook,” said Warden Pule. “I understand you are here about Troiton Belleur.”

“Yes,” said the Doctor. “There is reason to believe he means to harm me and my...friend.”

“Troiton Belleur has been successfully rehabilitated,” said Warden Pule. “However, you and your friend were responsible for his capture, the records tell me.” She glanced at Miranda. “You were not the one mentioned in the records, though you appear similar.”

“Yes,” said Miranda, not offering anything else. The Collective already gathered enough information about everyone in the galaxy that she did not want to add to their database.

“It is not outside the realm of possibility that he is now seeking revenge,” said Warden Pule, speculatively. “We will take note of this and investigate. Thank you for bringing this to our attention.” 

The Doctor chuckled. “Not good enough,” he said, his voice perfectly pleasant but it made Miranda shiver at the suppressed rage in his words. “He came after Rose and it is only by sheer coincidence that she isn’t dead. I want this dealt with.”

Warden Pule narrowed their eyes. “And what would you have us do?” they asked.

The Doctor smirked as he walked right up to Warden Pule. “I know that all Swanbrook inmates, rehabilitated or otherwise, have that little tracking chip embedded in their spine,” he said.

Warden Pule’s deep pink face grew pale enough to look almost human. “I do not know what you mean,” they said. “You appear to be misinformed. There is no such chip that you speak of.”

“That is what you would want everyone to think, especially the inmates themselves. But I know the truth,” he said. “So, I suggest you tell me where he is. NOW.”

Miranda jumped at his raised voice and felt a spike of fear. There had been something bothering her the entire time and it clicked in that moment that the years had not been kind to her father. He was inherently angry; furious in a way he had never been before, and she couldn’t tell whether it was because of the War or whatever had happened after it that had broken him in such a way. 

She remembered when the Time War was a mere wisp of a possibility, and there were whispers of Dalek conquests moving closer and closer through Kasterborous. The whispers had turned into bells of War before they knew it. And then her mother had done the impossible; she had sent her away from the whole thing to Rose’s own past. Miranda still had no idea how she had done it.

Warden Pule, still pale with fear, nodded and one of the guards rattled off a set of coordinates. “The coordinates will not be helpful, though,” Warden Pule added. “The time coordinates are...inconsistent.”

Without another word, the Doctor turned around and walked back into the TARDIS.

“Thank you,” said Miranda, and then hurried after him. She found him furiously entering the coordinates into the console, and she walked up to him as the TARDIS began to dematerialise. She waited until the TARDIS was in the vortex to place a hand on his arm. “What do you plan on doing when you find Troiton?”

He gave her a look, and Miranda inhaled sharply. The TARDIS landed and he shook Miranda’s grip off of himself. “Stay here,” he ordered as he started to leave.

Miranda rushed past him and blocked the door. “No,” she said. “Whatever you are planning to do...I won’t let you do it.”

He closed his eyes briefly and fixed her with a cold look. “Miranda,” he growled.

“No,” she repeated. 

“You know what he did,” said the Doctor. “Rose could have died.”

“But she didn’t,” said Miranda. “She will be fine, you told me that. What she won’t be fine with, is you hurting someone in retaliation. We need to take him back to Swanbrook and let them handle it.”

He gritted his teeth but Miranda kept her gaze unwavering. Eventually, he sighed and gave a nod. “We will take him back to Swanbrook.”

She nodded back and then wrapped her arms around him in a hug. She felt him relax as he hugged her back and kissed her temple.

“Sorry if I scared you, little Sarlain,” he said, which made her smile as she thought of the little yellow flowers on Gallifrey which grew around their cottage on Mount Cadon. 

“It’s alright,” she told him. “I know how you get when Mum or I are in danger.”

“Yes,” he said, and pulled away slowly. “I won’t apologise for that, though.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” said Miranda. She paused as something else occurred to her. “Is it...just me and Mum?”

The Doctor gave her a confused look. “What?” he asked.

Miranda shrugged. “I mean I always wanted siblings…” she trailed off.

The Doctor laughed and bopped her on the nose. “Stop trying to ask questions I can’t answer,” he said.

“Does that mean there is an answer there that would potentially be a spoiler?” asked Miranda, picking up on it immediately.

He just gave her a look and reached past her to open the doors. The coordinates had landed them on a landing dock of a bar full of different species and Miranda could not have pinpointed the location or the time period, if asked.

“51st century,” said the Doctor, as they stepped out of the TARDIS. “One of the numerous establishments around Earth. The time coordinates weren’t inconsistent...they were just not in the same time period, which confused the Collective.”

“So we’ve time travelled?” asked Miranda, confused, as they went into the bar. “This man can time travel?”

“No, that is a new one. When Rose and I ran into him the last time, he was trying to steal my TARDIS,” said the Doctor, as he glanced around the busy bar. The bar had a padded blue velvet ceiling, large glass walls overlooking the vast open void of space, and several patrons sitting around various tables and booths. The main bar itself was made entirely of glass, and five bartenders were catering to various customers.

“Do you think he has a TARDIS?” asked Miranda, as she glanced around.

“No,” said the Doctor, without hesitation. “There he is.”

Miranda followed his gaze and saw a bald man with tattoos covering his head, sitting at a table by the window by himself, fiddling with a device on his wrist. “What’s the plan?” she asked.

“See that device on his wrist? It’s a vortex manipulator,” said the Doctor, handing her his sonic screwdriver. “Can you disable it?”

Miranda nodded. “What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I’m going to go and have a chat with him,” he said, and left before Miranda could stop him. She just watched incredulously as he sauntered over to Troiton’s table and eased himself into the seat in front of him, with a beaming smile on his face.

Miranda saw the panic on Troiton’s face and the way he started typing furiously into the vortex manipulator. Without wasting a moment, Miranda made her way toward him, making sure to go around the other way so she came up to him from behind. 

The Doctor was saying something about Midir and even though the sonic screwdriver had a lot more settings than the ones she remembered, Miranda got the right one, and pointed it at the vortex manipulator, powering it down to nothing. 

Troiton jumped in shock and whirled around to glare at her, but before he could do more than that, Miranda flicked to the next setting and pointed the sonic screwdriver at his forehead. Troiton’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and the Doctor jumped up and caught him easily.

“Too much to drink,” Miranda told the nearby patrons, who nodded and returned to their business.

She helped the Doctor haul an unconscious Troiton to his feet and between the two of them, they managed to take him back to the TARDIS.

“Well done,” said the Doctor, once Troiton was laid down on the floor of the TARDIS.

“What did you say to him?” asked Miranda, leaning against the console to catch her breath.

“I asked him why he went to Midir of all people,” said the Doctor. “He said it was to avoid the trail leading back to him.”

“I suppose he was counting on Midir’s silence,” said Miranda, as the Doctor removed the vortex manipulator from Troiton’s wrist. She handed him the sonic screwdriver back without him having to ask, and he smiled gratefully as he began prodding the vortex manipulator with it.

“Well, a lesson to be learned there,” said the Doctor. “Do you mind piloting us back to Swanbrook?”

Miranda nodded and stepped past Troiton’s unconscious form. The controls were in an unfamiliar place and several components were missing or substituted with incompatible technology forced to be compatible, but she began piloting the TARDIS back to Swanbrook. The flight was shakier than she remembered, and she smiled apologetically at the Doctor as they landed.

She waited in the TARDIS, while the Doctor delivered Troiton back to Warden Pule. Her eye caught on a photograph tucked behind the monitor and she reached over and pulled it out. It was folded in half and as she unfolded it, she was shocked to see that it was a photograph of Rose with an unfamiliar man in a leather jacket. 

Based on the way he had his arm wrapped around her, Miranda knew it had to be the Doctor. What surprised her though, was that he had his other arm wrapped around Miranda herself. The Miranda in the photo looked a bit older than she did now, had longer hair, and a wide, beaming smile on her face. 

She heard the TARDIS doors open and she hastily shoved the photograph back in its hiding place behind the monitor. The Doctor looked a bit irritated as he walked in, and Miranda gave him a concerned glance.

“It’s nothing,” he said, waving her concern away. “Back to Rose?”

Miranda nodded, and the Doctor ambled over to the console and began piloting the TARDIS back to Miranda’s townhouse. 

“How will you wake Mum?” asked Miranda. “The bond isn’t there now, is it?”

“No,” he answered. “I should have something in the TARDIS medbay that will wake her.”

Miranda nodded, and as the TARDIS landed, the Doctor ducked into the TARDIS medbay for a moment before they returned to Rose’s room. River gave them a smile when they entered, and a glance at the clock told Miranda they had only been gone for an hour.

“I take it you found the one responsible,” said River.

“We did,” answered Miranda.

The Doctor moved to Rose’s bedside and smiled softly before placing a clear plastic square the size of a postage stamp on her forehead. “Don’t remove this until after I leave,” he said, looking back at Miranda and River. 

“What should we tell her?” asked Miranda.

“That she overslept,” said the Doctor. 

“She will notice the missing flowers,” said Miranda.

“I’ll go out and buy some,” said River. She turned to the Doctor and gave him a hug. “Nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you too, River,” he said. “Thank you.”

She smiled at him, and left. Miranda turned to the Doctor, but he nodded at her to follow him downstairs to the TARDIS.

“I want to come with you,” blurted out Miranda.

He smiled, as if he had expected it. “Wait here,” he said, and ducked inside the TARDIS. He emerged a moment later and held out the vortex manipulator. “For you,” he added. “It’s functioning again, and you are free to leave whenever you like.”

“That’s not what I meant,” said Miranda.

“I know, my love,” he said. “But I remember that your mother and I came to find you here.” She had suspected as much and nodded as she accepted the vortex manipulator. “Remember, you always have a choice.”

Miranda smiled. “I’ll stay here,” she said. “I may go on a few field trips,” she added. “But I’ll wait here.”

The Doctor beamed and pulled her into a hug. “I’ll see you soon, my love,” he said.

“You better,” she said, hugging him back. 

“This won’t be the face that you will see,” he added, as he pulled away. “Just so you know.”

Miranda nodded, and then asked the other question which had been niggling at her. “Why did she send me here?” asked Miranda. “Here, to her own past, of all places.”

“Isn’t it obvious, my love?” asked the Doctor, smiling softly as he cradled her cheek in his palm. 

Miranda gave him a confused look, and he kissed her forehead before releasing her.

“Because there is no one,” he said. “No one else apart from herself, that she would trust to keep you safe.”

Miranda’s eyes filled with tears and the Doctor stepped back into the TARDIS. “It was nice seeing you, little sarlain. Take care of yourself.”


End file.
